Visiting Hours
by phalangesbyfive
Summary: In the span of two hours, Beckett began to question the very foundation of her working relationship with Castle. Because now she was faced with the all too real possibility that it was over. NOT a post-finale fic. Cover art by pauliporcupine.
1. In an Instant

It started like any other day. A new case, a theory, a lead. It stopped being just any other day before they could even pick up a suspect.

In the span of two hours, Beckett began to question the very foundation of her working relationship with Castle. Because now she was faced with the all too real possibility that it was over.

It was worse than just their partnership ending, but that was the most manageable problem she could focus on while she sat in a hospital waiting room. She couldn't think about Castle lying in a bed on the same floor, or the flurry of doctors trying and failing to wake him the hell up.

So, she sat. She swore at no one in particular and received no response. It was deadly quiet.

* * *

><p><em>Two hours earlier<em>

"Should I even bother asking you to stay in the car?" She opened the door without waiting for a response, already a few steps ahead when he managed to get out.

Castle ran to match the stride of her retreating form. "You know me so well," he replied with a smile, watching her face closely to see if he could catch the corner of her mouth turning up before she could hide it.

He was enjoying her playful insults today. She was smiling more than usual, and he found himself staring more than once. In fact, he was pretty sure she'd caught him in the act, too, but she didn't reprimand him.

"Yeah, well for a mystery writer you're not so mysterious. I've had you pegged since day one." She held up a finger and smirked.

His mouth fell open in argument. "I beg to differ."

"No surprise there."

Before he could reply, they reached a shipping dock and Beckett quickly spotted a man holding a clipboard who seemed to be in charge.

She greeted him badge first, and Castle marveled at how she could go from joking to cutthroat in .2 seconds. "Detective Kate Beckett. Is Brett Weathers here today?"

He rolled his eyes and sighed. "What's he done now?"

"We just need to speak with him about an ongoing investigation. Where can we find him?"

Castle didn't have time to think about teasing her for using "we" before a man caught wind of their purpose here.

The suspect slowly made his way to the door leading outside, his hands in his pockets and a hat hanging low over the top portion of his face.

Unfortunately, the exit was only a few steps from Beckett and Castle, and he wasn't moving as nonchalantly as he hoped.

"That's him," the manager told them without trying to speak softly, motioning to the left with his chin.

Brett's pace quickened to a near run when Beckett stepped in his direction, and he made a dash for it, smashing into Castle as he stepped in the way of his escape.

They stumbled. Both men went flying off the shipping dock, arms flailing.

Castle's head met the ground first with a loud crack. His eyes bulged before closing in pain, and he couldn't suck in a deep enough breath to satisfy his lungs as Brett landed on top of his now unmoving body.

It only deterred him for a moment before he was back on his feet and fleeing the scene.

It all happened so fast, leaving little to no time for Beckett to react until the damage was done. She was torn between a chase and checking on Castle. It took her all of a second to decide to call for backup as she ran to his side, hoping the cracking sound from before wasn't serious.

Feeling for his pulse with two fingers to his neck, and noticing his eyes flutter open, she turned to see which direction their suspect had gone. He was nowhere to be seen.

"Dammit!" she shouted in the runner's general direction. Turning back to Rick, she asked, "Are you okay?"

The manager watched from his perch a few feet above them, and he called down to ask if they needed help. Beckett shook her head. "More detectives will be here soon, and they'll have some questions for you. Don't go too far."

With that out of the way, she turned her attention back to Rick.

Blinking rapidly a few times, he waited for the stars shooting across his vision to soon disappear. Her hand pushed against his chest when he tried to sit up.

"Don't try to move yet. I'm calling an ambulance. I think you passed out for a few seconds." Her phone was already connecting.

Castle reached out and hit the end button before she realized what he was doing. "That's going a little far. I didn't pass out. I was just...napping."

She sighed and ignored his ridiculous explanation. "Your eyes were closed too long for my comfort," she reasoned, as if to a child. Her fingers were already on the buttons again.

"If you insist that I get medical attention, at least drive me yourself? No need for an ambulance."

Beckett considered for a moment and put the phone away, nodding. She leaned forward, running her fingers through his hair to the back of his head.

His eyes widened in shock, but he leaned into her touch without questioning it. Why look a gift horse in the mouth?

When she tried to pull his head into her lap, however, Castle jerked away in surprise – a movement that caused him some discomfort after the fall - and looked at her questioningly.

"Relax. I'm feeling for a bump, or maybe some blood or missing brains." She smiled to cover up her worry and tried again to prop his head up on her leg, this time without resistance.

"I lost those many moons ago, I'm afraid."

His joke helped relieve some of her tension, but a yelp of pain drowned out her short laugh. "Huge bump here," Beckett said softly, fingertips gently etching out the sore area. Her fingers continued to thread through his hair at leisure. "Are you okay to walk?"

He was tempted to say no just so he could sit there and let her touch him, but he settled for a few seconds of pretending to mull it over before he nodded. "I might need some help, though," he admitted.

It wasn't just an excuse for contact, he realized when he tried to sit up. The ground spun and tilted for a few seconds when his upper half went vertical. Beckett quickly sensed this and held onto his shoulder with one hand while the other gave his back some support.

"Slowly," she murmured, rubbing circles over his shoulder blades until he was ready to move. "There's no rush."

Castle felt her arm loop through his when he shifted onto one knee and then stood. "You're good at the support thing, you know."

She laughed. "I've had some practice. Come on; let's get you to that doctor."

* * *

><p><em>Present time<em>

A layer of glass and about six steps was all that physically separated them. Beckett watched from this distance, knowing for certain even an inch forward would catapult her over a never-ending cliff.

Half of her itched to take that leap. It would be easier than watching a terrified mother and daughter look on at their loved one, with everyone's hands clasped tightly: a circle of hope and hurting that had no foreseeable end.

The other half screamed and cried out. There was too much lack of noise. She wanted to fill the hallway with her despair, let everyone share in the distress she was feeling.

But she couldn't, so she instead concentrated on the scribbling of busy pens and beeping of ever-watchful machines.

And nurses talking too loudly about the inhabitants of hospital rooms.

"He's an author, apparently," one whispered louder than most would speak at a normal level.

"Not anymore. He fell pretty hard, and the bleed was so slow…" the other replied, looking down in sadness that didn't match a tenth of the detective's. Beckett recognized this one as the blonde nurse who'd checked Castle's vitals thirty minutes ago.

"Classic talk and die syndrome. Natasha Richardson all over again." Her tone turned to one of a schoolgirl with the newest gossip. "Did you see the couple in 31-B? That's got to hurt!"

The blonde giggled in agreement. "I took pictures."

It took everything she had – which wasn't much, considering how all of her energy was directed toward not breaking down in a public place – not to toss the nurses against a wall, cuff them, and lock them in a cage where they could rot.

Beckett decided enough was enough when they began to describe 31-B's mutilated occupants, and she turned back to the unchanged scene on the other side of the glass. Alexis' lips moved, words trying to spill out but unable to squeeze past their trembling barrier.

She didn't have to hear what was being said in the room to know what the young girl was trying to choke out: variations of the pleas Kate was echoing in her own mind. _Wake up. I need you. Don't leave me. Wake up. Wake up._

But Castle was stubborn even in his sleep, and his body slumbered on.

A doctor came down the hallway and laid a comforting hand on Kate's shoulder. "Would you like to come in while I brief everyone on Mr. Castle's condition?"

She jumped a little, not expecting the touch, and most definitely not the question. Perplexed, her eyebrows knitted. "I'm allowed to be in there for that?"

The doctor's expression bore just as much confusion. "Ms. Rodgers informed me that you're family, so of course. Are you not Mrs. Castle?"

Kate didn't know what to say to that, so she just swallowed any protests and nodded, quickly deciding to leave before anyone else could try to tie her in with this family more than she already was. "But, I actually have to go now. They'll fill me in later." She took a step backwards, attempting to smile and look pulled together.

The man nodded, still looking like he'd missed something, and proceeded to enter uncharted territory without her.

* * *

><p><em>One hour earlier<em>

His laughter was much more uninhibited than hers, which was cautious and half-hearted, but it was a miracle Castle had even managed to make her crack a smile.

Beckett was tense. The doctors weren't bringing the results for his CT fast enough for her liking. Though, any amount of time other than immediately would have been too long for her.

Finally giving up on using distraction as a way to pass the time and ease her worry, he sighed. "I'm fine, Beckett."

She glanced over him and crossed her arms. "I'll just wait for the professionals to tell me that before we bring out the champagne."

He snorted. "Always so skeptical. Fine then, since you refuse to see that I'm okay, I'll play my part as the pitiful patient." He mentally congratulated himself on the unintentional alliteration before coughing pathetically. "I'm thirsty. And cold."

That had the detective giving him a true smile, quickly hidden by one of her infamous eye-rolls. "You're such a baby. I'm going to go ask the kind nurse if she knows when we'll get some answers."

Castle kept up the pout as he teased. "You mean bug the hell out of the nurse you've so endearingly named, 'that unhelpful bitch'?" She grinned. "You've asked at least five times by now. Try some patience."

"You're certainly trying mine," she retorted when he shivered dramatically, clutching the blanket closer to himself. "I'll be right back." She handed him a glass of water on her way out.

He laid back and sipped through a straw while he waited. Truth be told, his head was still pounding and he could hear as well as feel each rush of blood through his veins. Though he tried to convince Kate that nothing was wrong, he truly was worried about the results of his scan.

Kate approached the nurse, reminding herself that the name wasn't _actually_ "that unhelpful bitch", but failing to remember what it really was. "Excuse me?" She fought back an irritated tone.

The nurse didn't even turn around to face the detective. "Ma'am, I've already told you that you'll know the second the scans come back."

Kate gritted her teeth. "Yes, I heard you before, but it's been almost an hour. If it weren't for the fact that he could be bleeding into his skull right now, I'd gladly leave you alone."

She turned and sighed deeply. "The doctors know what they're doing. If it were serious, they'd have been up here already. Please be patient." It came out as more of a command, and Beckett found herself standing up straighter to look intimidating before she walked away.

Punching a nurse wouldn't make this go any faster, she told herself as she made her way back to Castle's room.

He smiled up at her when she entered. "It's so cute when you get protective," he told her.

She snorted. "Don't flatter yourself. I just want to get home is all" .But the smile she gave him in return let him know she was lying.

As she took her place in a chair at his side, she noticed he was sweating and his breathing was shallow. Her heart sped up and she frowned. He caught it before she could hide it, always annoyingly in tune with her emotions.

"What's wrong?"

Beckett sighed and said, "Nothing." He gave her a moment of silence before lowering his head to catch her gaze. "You look…bad," she finally admitted.

"It's the lighting. Hospitals don't complement my skin tone," Castle joked, but she didn't laugh. "Hey, look at me." He waited until she met his eyes. "I'm feeling a little queasy, but it's nothing. They'd rush up here if the scan was abnormal."

"That's not a good sign. Maybe I should go tell Nurse Hunter." The name finally came to mind.

Castle wanted to argue with her, but it was getting harder to concentrate on his surroundings, so he simply nodded and laid his head back.

His lack of fight had Beckett jumping up and quickly exiting the room. "Nurse Hunter-" she started.

"Mrs. Beckett, for the last time, please go sit down and wait. It shouldn't be much longer," she hissed, her head not popping up from above the clipboard she was staring at.

Kate slammed her fists down on the counter, effectively gaining the nurse's undivided attention. "He's sweaty and queasy, and his eyes are unfocused. Tell me that's normal?" she demanded. Her voice rose when she received no answer. "Call a damn doctor up here _now._"

* * *

><p><em>Present time<em>

Beckett tossed her keys on a table inside the door as she slid out of her shoes.

Times like these made it hard to come home to an empty apartment. There were no distractions big enough to keep her from seeing Castle's eyes close shut.

He only wanted to take a nap, he told her blurry form. And now there was a chance he wouldn't wake up.

"Don't go there," she told herself, but she was never a very good listener, even when it came to listening to herself.

It's all she could think about while she sat on her couch, wrapping her arms around her legs and waiting for Josh to read her text and come over.

It only took him twenty minutes. She knew because she counted the ticks of the clock, letting the sound drive everything else from her mind.

"Kate?" he called out as he entered the apartment. She was sitting on the couch, looking more broken than he'd ever seen her.

She looked up at him, the relief clear in her eyes. He misread it, thinking she was just happy to see him after a long day. Josh went to her side, pulling her into a hug and kissing the top of her head.

"Is everything okay?" he asked her when she didn't move to hug him back.

"Someone I work with…" Went into a coma because he fell a few damn feet? She couldn't say it. "…was hurt on the job. I don't know if he's going to make it." Of course he is. He's Castle. Don't even think that.

She winced when she thought of his name, and Josh took it as a reaction to his hands rubbing circles on her back. He pulled away and used two fingers to lightly touch her chin and force her to look at him. "What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it," she mumbled.

He sighed in frustration. "What do you want me to do, then?" This was his Kate: stubborn, closed off, beautiful even when hurting. He only wanted to protect her, but she was an independent woman who would turn on him for even thinking she needed a protector.

"Distract me," she whispered. She moved one leg to each side his waist and kissed him, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

His hands went to her back, and he held her close. All he wanted was more of her, and all she could do was imagine Castle's hands in his place.

* * *

><p><em>Hello, everyone! Long time, no write. I'd like to start out by saying this story is already completely outlined and researched. I plan to post every 3-4 days. I've always been awful with timely posting, but this will be different. I've only got one more chapter left in my other major story, and that should be up sometime this next week, which will be one distraction out of the way.<em>

_Thanks to Andy and Jade for forcing me to write and post. You're the nicest bossy ladies I know. _

_Reviews are much appreciated._


	2. Day One

Alexis kept one eye on the door after the doctor walked through it, waiting in vain for Beckett to follow right after him. She'd left the previous day without as much as a wave goodbye. While Alexis didn't know her all that well from only meeting her on a few occasions, she'd heard enough about the detective from her dad to know that this was out of character. He talked about her like she was the most dependable, strong women he knew, and running in a situation like this was _not_ strong.

"Can you tell us anything," the redhead asked, her eyes matching the color of her hair.

He motioned for Martha and Alexis to sit while he stood with a clipboard clasped between two hands in front of him. Leaning against the wall, he began. "I'd like to start out by saying that judging if and when someone will emerge from a coma is incredibly difficult. I can't say with any certainty what will happen. This can be scary, but it can also give you some hope. No matter what the odds are, there are always people who beat them.

"We stopped the intracranial bleed before it could cause more substantial damage, but the pressure that built up did cut off oxygen to his brain for longer than it could handle."

There was a pause as he looked at their faces, trying to gauge how much they were taking in. Alexis used this opportunity to grab her grandmother's hand and meet his eyes boldly. "What are you doing to wake him up?"

He sighed. This was the hard part. "There's not much we can do. A nurse will come in to move him every 2-3 hours to prevent bed sores. We'll watch for pneumonia and infection, and he's receiving nutrients through an IV. He's intubated and ventilated."

Two pairs of unwavering eyes stared at him, begging for something more clear and substantial; something to grab onto like a lifebuoy.

"You wait." Their hearts dropped. "You visit and talk to him. I suggest talking to a professional, too. My hope is that you won't have much time to worry about this before it's all over, but we have to be realistic. You'll be kept informed at all times as to his condition."

He stood from his slouched position, signifying that his end of the conversation was over. "Once again, I'm so sorry for what you're both going through. Let us know if there's anything we can do."

After he received nods from the conscious occupants of the room, he made his way out, shutting the door softly.

Alexis turned to Martha, their hands still tightly fastened. "What now?"

"Oh, sweetheart, I wish I knew." She pulled her granddaughter to her chest, gently running a hand through her hair. They derived equal comfort from the contact, happy to shut out the sight of the unconscious man in their midst, though they couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing.

He should be smiling and hugging them, too.

They'd have to get used to that feeling now; learn to wear it like a coat in the summer.

"How about I call Detective Beckett and you can sit here for a moment?" Martha motioned to a chair by her son's bed.

Alexis shook her head, determination strong in her voice as she opposed the idea. "I'll call her."

Martha nodded her approval, seeing it would be futile to argue. She took the place by Rick's side, holding his hand while Alexis went into the hallway to make the call.

By the way her granddaughter was moving, she could tell it wasn't just updating Kate that she was after. The sure, confident way she walked out of the room meant only one thing: she was bracing herself for an uncomfortable conversation; she was preparing for a fight.

* * *

><p>Beckett couldn't have told anyone what this case was about if her life depended on it. Whenever she got started thinking about the suspect that escaped, her brain paused on the exact moment when Castle bruised his own.<p>

It couldn't have been more than a four foot drop, she figured. How can someone go from perfectly okay to brain damaged in the span of a few seconds and four feet? That didn't seem possible. It shouldn't be possible.

And yet, here she was, sitting there with the knowledge that it absolutely _was_ possible. There was no uncertainty, no room for argument. Four feet was all it took.

"Just four," she whispered aloud. She'd been repeating it all day, alternating between inflections of anger, disbelief, and amazement.

The phone's shrill ringing brought her out of a daze. "Beckett," she answered with no gusto.

It was Alexis on the other end, and Kate's already slipping composure fell away just a little bit more at the sound of her voice. "The doctor just got done talking to us," she informed the detective.

Beckett couldn't quite place the tone of the teen's voice; it was somewhere between distant and hopeful. "What did they say?"

There was a pause, and she could hear a sharp inhale on the other end, like Alexis was stopping herself from saying something. "That we just have to wait. Wait and see."

It would have been better news if he weren't going to make it, because at least then there was a clear course of action. But now they were in the dark, fumbling around for a switch when they weren't quite certain if they'd want to see what it shed light on.

"Thank you for telling me," Kate choked out. She wanted to reassure the girl, but what was there to say when she couldn't even reassure herself?

Alexis held back the urge to yell that she shouldn't have had to pass on the news. Beckett should have been there for herself, her hand intertwined with the rest of his family.

But she didn't yell. She could hear Kate's barely suppressed tears, and she decided to wait. The detective just needed some time before she'd come around, Alexis told herself. She wouldn't dare leave them all to unravel on their own.

"Yeah, sure. I'll see you soon? We'll be at the hospital all day."

Beckett never considered herself a liar, but she wondered if her "yes" was really the truth.

They hung up before she could decide. As she placed the phone back on the cradle, the detective closed her eyes for a brief moment, which quickly turned into a few minutes.

Her thoughts went back to the case, though she carefully avoided thinking about the incident. They were monitoring Weathers' phone, hoping for a slip-up that would lead them to his location.

The only problem with this plan was the amount of waiting that had to be done. With waiting came free time, and free time wasn't Kate's friend. There was too much room for thinking.

"Beckett?" So lost in her own thoughts, she hadn't heard Ryan and Esposito walk up. To be honest, she hadn't paid much attention to them at all today after the first few glimpses of unfiltered worry she'd spotted right away this morning.

Ignoring their unquestioned worry, she asked with hope, "Do you have something for me?" They needed a lead. She needed to take down Brett Weathers more than she needed to take her next breath.

"Captain wants to see you. It's important," Ryan told her. They didn't budge when she glared in an attempt to learn what Montgomery wanted.

She knew, anyway, and she didn't have the energy to fight for permission to stay at the precinct. His chair was empty, and it stared at her while she tried to do paperwork, mocked her when she walked over to the white board. She needed to escape it.

Nodding, Beckett made her way to the captain's office, feeling two sets of eyes on her back when there should have been three.

"You wanted to see me?" she shut the door behind her without being told.

"I told you not to come in this morning, and you ignored it. I told you that since you insist on being here, you're stuck on desk duty."

Kate looked at him in confusion, crossing her arms. "I've been at my desk all day," she finally said.

"And you haven't done a damn thing." He held up a hand before she could interrupt, and she began to pace in order to keep from blurting out excuses. "I understand that you've been distracted. Hell, I'd be more worried if you _weren't_ distracted. Thing is, you're my best detective on your worst days, but today you're a mourning civilian, and they don't have a place in my investigation."

That had her stopped in her tracks, stunned into silence and stillness while his expression softened into something damn near fatherly.

"You need to talk to someone."

She knew who someone was: it was someone she did NOT want to admit she ever needed to go back to. The mention of it pulled her back out of shock. "I'll go home, but I won't talk to someone unless it's an order, sir."

He recognized that for what it was – a dare – and he knew exactly what would happen if he ordered her.

Beckett would go, say precisely what she needed to say to be declared fit for duty, and then shut down so nobody could see what was going on in her head. It would bring out the detective of the past, the one she'd worked so hard to change.

"It isn't an order. Esposito and Ryan have agreed to one session, and I'm recommending you do the same. Your choice."

She gave a nearly imperceptible nod to let him know she'd think about it, and then she was out the door and headed to her desk so she could gather her purse and jacket.

* * *

><p>Drained, without the energy to make it to her couch from the door, but somehow managing it, Kate finally dropped onto the cushions. There was nothing to do; nothing appealed to her except staring, and she'd been doing that all day. She hadn't found a limit to it.<p>

It was as if a string attaching her to Castle was pulled tight over the distance between them. Taught from one of them being unreachable in the most devastating sense of the word, she was tempting fate by staying away. The further she went, the harder it yanked back on her and the more pain that shot through her.

Would it be more agonizing to see him or to let the string pull her so hard she felt like all that was left of her was a skeleton?

She craved release from the hold he had on her, but even with him unconscious it was nearly impossible to remain apart.

Kate was in limbo, trying to decide if heaven was just hiding or if there were only different versions of hell to choose from.

Her own special brand of hell then knocked on the door, interrupting her deep thoughts. Josh let himself in when she didn't answer, and she cursed the day she gave him a key.

He stopped and looked her over. If possible she looked even worse than yesterday. Had she eaten? Slept? Moved off her couch? "How long have you been sitting there?"

She looked at her watch in shock. "A while." Two hours, to be exact. Time added itself to the list of things moving on without her.

Josh stood still in the doorway, unsure of what he could do for her. He could sew up a beating heart without flinching, but Kate's heart was out of reach and quite possibly beyond repair.

"How was your day?" she asked him, offering an easy way out of the conversation he felt obligated to have.

Relieved and guilty, he opened the fridge and scanned the contents, settling on some noodles. "Back to back surgeries. Want some spaghetti?"

Kate wasn't sure, but saying yes seemed like the normal thing to do, so she did.

"Where are the pots?" She saw his eyes flit from cupboard to cupboard, waiting for directions.

Castle knew where the pots were.

She shook the thought away and pointed to what he was looking for. "Everything go well?" Her voice was robotic.

They both knew she was on auto-pilot, speaking with no emotion or interest, but neither called attention to it.

"Yeah." He started go into detail. Every time he looked up from the pot of sauce he was stirring and caught sight of how she was still staring, motionless where she sat, it pushed him to talk more. He couldn't bring himself to stop. Why wouldn't she say something?

"Hmm," she hummed when Josh asked a question. He didn't bother repeating himself.

Kate had reached the limit of what little meaningless conversation she was capable of. Realizing it was either dead silence or an uncomfortable conversation, the surgeon stopped beating around the bush.

"Will you tell me who it is that's in the hospital?" He knew who it was. It couldn't be anyone else, but oh how he hoped he was wrong.

"You know who." Kate turned to face him, the saddest smile he'd ever seen gracing her lips.

Josh poured sauce over the noodles and fetched two bowls from above the sink. While his back was turned, he mumbled, "I thought so."

Suddenly his presence was too much. He was going to try to make her talk; make her feel guilty for her intense reaction. She didn't want him here, forcing her to eat like Castle always had, ignoring her feelings like Castle never would.

"Maybe you should go." He knew it wasn't a maybe, but he still brought over a bowl of spaghetti and a fork for her.

Sitting down beside her with his own bowl, he mulled that over for a second. "For good?" he asked under his breath.

"Yes," she whispered. Though quiet, it was said with certainty.

Just a small part of him was relieved. Dealing with Kate like this would take him down with her.

The bigger part was heartbroken. This is the woman who made him feel warm and didn't get angry over his long hours, the one he stayed for. Now she wanted him gone, and nobody would be around to see her look so frail, to comfort her.

He leaned forward, hands clutching hers, eyes pleading with her. "Don't say that. What you're going through? It won't hurt like this forever. Maybe some space-"

She held a finger to his lips and shook her head. "I can't do this." Us, she was saying.

Josh fell back on the couch cushions, sighing and wondering how much of this was just in the moment and how much she really meant. She could feel differently with a few days by herself to think. He could give her time if that's what she needed; he had enough patience for this, for her.

"I'm here if you change your mind," he finally said.

Kate wrapped him in her arms, knowing without a doubt it'd be for the last time. Even if Castle woke up tonight, the last two days had changed her in ways that couldn't be undone. She wasn't the same person anymore, and the person she was becoming didn't want Josh in her life.

* * *

><p>It took her three hours after Josh left to get off the couch and shower. Every single minute of that time was spent bracing herself for what she was now about to walk into.<p>

She stood right outside of the glass barrier, staring in at a sight she'd committed to memory and tried to banish from her mind all in the same moment.

Castle, with tubes carrying out all the functions his body no longer could, eyes shut in what she hoped was a peaceful sleep.

There was an inch of space between her and the doorway. It was the longest, most intimidating inch she'd ever encountered.

Beckett could have remained there for days, repeating, "This is the moment I'll walk in," until she was dead on her feet, but it was after visiting hours and it would draw more attention than flashing her badge and barging her way past the nurse's station had.

"Here it goes," she whispered, taking that final step.

After all the buildup, she halfway expected applause or dramatic ooh-ing, but there were none. There were only the remaining feet to walk before she was at his bedside.

For the past forty-eight hours, Kate hadn't allowed herself to say his name. Though she couldn't prevent herself from thinking it, saying it was not only impossible, but also forbidden in her new rules of survival.

So when she finally said it, it came out in a reverent release of air. "Castle."

Sitting in the chair Martha had occupied earlier, she let the tears fall like there was an endless supply.

After anticipating what it would be like to see him up close – excruciating, suffocating, unbearable – she was surprised to discover that it was a relief as well.

Kate could see his chest rise and fall, and though a machine was doing it for him, there were no words to describe how comforting it was to watch.

She felt obligated to speak. It was too terrifying to listen to only the beeping of his heart, because she was convinced it would stop any minute.

"Hi," she started simply. "The precinct was quiet today."

Kate listened to three breaths while she thought of what else to say. "Montgomery kicked me out. Tomorrow I'm going back, though. We have to crack this case." She pretended the "we" was referring to herself and her team, and did not in any way include Castle.

It got uncomfortably quiet again. "You're a good listener." A sharp pang of grief shot through her when she received no laughter for her joke, and with it followed more tears.

She wiped them away on the sleeve of her sweater, but they didn't let up. She'd held them back for too long, and now they fled her eyes with a vengeance.

After letting them fall for a few minutes, the beeping began to creep under her skin, so she continued in an effort to drown it out. "Alexis called me. She sounded worried, but strong. You would be proud."

Lame. Everything she said was lame. Ignoring the elephant in the room was pointless, and she could almost feel Castle mocking her for the attempt.

Sitting back and crossing her legs, she took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "You won't have to worry about Josh anymore. I ended it with him."

He should have sat up in bed and started a parade, but there was no change, no movement. The machine breathed at a steady pace.

Kate laughed humorlessly. "I have an appointment with a psychologist tomorrow. It's the same one I went to years ago." The same one who helped her let go of her mother's murder. Is that what he would try to get her to do with Castle, too?

"I'm not sure what there is to say, though." Words were coming out with ease now, his presence seeping into her bones and relaxing her to a near human level. "If surgery and medicine won't make you better, talking sure as hell won't. I can talk all I want, but nothing will be right again until you are."

The relief of his proximity faded with this admission, leaving only varying amounts of pain and frustration. Sitting down wasn't an option anymore, so she stood up and looked down at him, her eyes dry. "You better be coming up with some damn good stories while you're stuck in there," she told him sternly.

His hand was in reach, but her arm stubbornly refused to move. Some part of her was scared he would feel cold and lifeless, though logically she knew better.

There was nothing else to say except to tell him how much she was hurting, how the worry kept her awake at night, and how she turned into a walking zombie during the day. How he'd crept into the furthest corners of her life, and now everything was just a reminder that he was missing.

Kate couldn't say these things aloud. She couldn't watch him any longer, waiting for him to let go completely or finally resurface. It was time to go.

"I'll come back tomorrow," she promised, crossing her arms to remove the temptation to let her fingers loop through his.

When she walked out, she stopped herself from turning around to look at him. He wasn't going to be smiling, watching her walk away. Castle, her Castle, wasn't there.

* * *

><p><em>Look who's actually updating promptly! Please tell me what you think. Though everything is outlined, it isn't too late to add some things if I get a good suggestion. Thanks for reading.<em>


	3. The First Week

Dr. Ryder knew she would have her hands full when Beckett's first words upon entering were "I'm only here for one session."

It had been seven years since the detective last came through those doors. At first glance she could tell a lot of things had changed; she walked with more confidence, her posture was less defensive, and wisdom crinkled her eyes.

But one thing hadn't changed, and it impacted Kate's appearance more than anything. She still looked burdened down with a weight a hundred men shouldn't have to carry, much less one strong-willed woman with a badge and gun.

"I seem to remember someone saying that a long time ago," Alice responded with a grin. "One day turned into a year."

Kate didn't smile back, but she did uncross her arms as she sat down, and the psychologist took that as a good sign. "Won't happen this time."

She knew better than to fight, so she ignored the comment instead. "Tell me what brings you here." It wasn't a question. Another thing Dr. Ryder knew was not to _ask_ Beckett to do anything. Giving her an option was the same as giving her an invitation to shut down.

"My partner went into a coma three days ago." Blunt, just like she'd practiced on the ride over. Said with as little emotion as possible.

This had the doctor leaning back, mouth open slightly in understanding. She'd read all about her and Castle's unconventional relationship, but she hadn't heard about the coma. "You're close?"

Beckett considered how to answer this, re-thinking the appointment for the tenth time that morning. "When you spend every day working with someone, a bond is formed." It was detached, something she could easily say about Ryan or Esposito.

Dr. Ryder scribbled something down before glancing back up at her patient. "Tell me about him."

_No,_ she screamed in her mind. Talking about his condition was something she could do at a nearly manageable level. She could go on for hours about how unfair, how sudden, his injury was. It's something that constantly went through her mind.

But she hadn't allowed thoughts about _him_. His phone addiction, his annoying ideas, his constant need to chatter.

How he smiled, how he brought her coffee, how he never let her get lonely when she was feeling vulnerable and lost.

Beckett clenched her eyes shut and covered the move with a cough, but the doctor noticed it.

"I know this is hard." Kate gritted her teeth at that, but Alice continued. "If you're only coming in for one session, you need to make the most of it. You can either tell me about your partner, or you can schedule a few more appointments so we can take our time."

She checked her father's watch. There were only fifty-three more minutes left. Surely she could keep it together for that long?

Beckett started with the simple facts, her arms instinctively crossing again. "He's a writer and a father. I've known him for three years."

"I've heard about how he came to follow you," Dr. Ryder informed her.

She smiled at that; Beckett had been the one to introduce the doctor to Castle's books through her therapy all those years ago.

It softened the mood, and Kate responded with a bit of information she hadn't expected to divulge. "You'd be proud of me. I let him in."

She didn't need to go on after that. She could have listed every adjective under the sun to describe Rick, but that simple sentence spoke volumes about how much he meant to her.

Ryder leaned forward and put her notepad to the side. "I am proud. Are you regretting it?"

This was the question Kate had been wondering for 72 hours. Was letting Castle in a mistake? Did all of the worrying and heart-crushing stress nullify what three years of having him around helped her achieve, both personally and professionally?

The answer was clear. "No, but I'm not sure I'll survive if _he_ doesn't." No amount of fake coughing could hide the tears now, but she was quick to swipe them away as soon as they left her eyes.

Alice discreetly handed her a tissue, careful to otherwise ignore Kate's tears. She didn't argue with the admission; after thirteen years of living with her mom's death, she wasn't sure how her patient would handle another loss of someone this close.

"What exactly are you feeling?" She asked, picking up the notepad again.

Kate looked up at her with raised eyebrows. "Isn't it pretty easy to guess?"

"Not at all. Are you sad and worried? Guilty? Do you feel numb?"

"Is it wrong that I'm not 'sad'?" She looked up to see Alice shaking her head. "Mostly I feel…shocked. Shocked and guilty."

"It's only been three days. The shock will wear off, and you'll be left with something else in its place. What makes you feel guilty?" She was looking at her intently, pen at the ready.

Her hands were gesturing with fury. "I listened to him when he told me not to call an ambulance. I didn't report his symptoms fast enough. They could have caught the bleed faster if I'd just-"

"Stop right there." She pointed a finger at Kate, her voice stern." You didn't make him fall, and if the doctors didn't respond fast enough, then you aren't to blame."

"They didn't see the bleed on the scans," Beckett argued. "It was too small. If I had told the nurse right away that he was acting funny, then they might have realized…" She was lost in her own thoughts again, face contorted as she went over her every move that day, mentally kicking herself for all of the lost opportunities.

Alice sighed and put the notepad down again, clasping her hands together. "Be honest with me. Did you notice he was acting different at first?"

Beckett's eyes fell. "No. He was hiding it."

"Then you couldn't have told them any sooner than you did," Ryder said, her tone more gentle than before.

"No," the detective mumbled.

"So the guilt is just a cover."

Kate kept staring at the carpet, realization dawning on her. "I'm angry. I'm angry at him for letting me think he was okay, and for shadowing me when we both knew it wasn't about the books. For what he's putting all of us through."

The doctor smiled at her admission. "You're angry, and you feel guilty about being angry."

She nodded, relief flooding through her. Somehow it helped, naming all of the emotions she went through like a flipbook. It wasn't long before the pain settled back in its place, but the short reprieve left her feeling lighter.

Alice let her silently sift through her thoughts, watching the wheels in her brain whir. If she looked carefully, she could see everything from anger to acceptance flit across her face. Suddenly, it stopped. A darkness settled over her features, and her shoulders slumped.

"My captain thinks I'm not coping," Beckett mumbled when Dr. Ryder didn't say anything. "I need to be able to work right now, but if I slip up because of this…"

She shook her head. "Nobody can tell you how to handle this situation, Kate, and you're handling it the best you can. I'll write something to say I find you mentally fit to work if that's what I need to do."

Her head popped up in surprise from where she was staring at the floor.

"It only just happened. You're stuck. He's not gone, but he's not here. You don't know if that will ever change, or which way it will go if it does. There is no coping and moving on from this. There's only finding a new way to live until something happens."

Kate listened intently, eyes glued to the wadded up tissue in her hand. They let a few moments of silence pass.

She checked the clock on the wall and sat back in her chair. "Time's up. I suggest you find someone to talk to if you won't come see me. Try not to let this consume you." Their eyes met; an understanding of what that would do to her passed between them.

Beckett thanked her and left, mind bogged down with only one thought: she couldn't talk to the one man she trusted with this side of her.

* * *

><p><em>Three days later<em>

Beckett stood outside the Castles' door, thinking about the many spectacles she'd seen when it was opened in the past. Rick and Alexis in laser tag gear, Rick in one of his crazy costumes, Martha in a face mask.

He was always there, welcoming her in with a smile. Though constantly unpredictable, she always knew he'd be on the other side of the door.

It was a new experience to knock with the knowledge that he wouldn't be answering.

But knock she did, because some part of her felt closer to him when she was there, when she saw his family.

"Come in, dear," Martha greeted her. Kate could tell she was trying to sound upbeat, but it lacked her usual flair.

Beckett didn't ask if she was interrupting, or apologize for stopping by unannounced. She just walked in and sat down on a stool at their kitchen island, defenses down and face crestfallen. "How is he?" she asked immediately.

She'd been visiting, but since all of her visits were after hours, she rarely got to talk to a doctor.

Martha sat beside the detective and rested a hand on her back. "Same. The doctor told us not to expect any change this soon."

Silence as Beckett nodded. "And Alexis?"

She gave her a sad smile. "She hardly comes out of her room unless it's for school or the hospital."

Kate's stomach twisted in guilt and empathy. Thinking of the teen in so much pain reminded her of herself when her mom died. The seclusion, the all-consuming fixation on a single, life-changing event. She wouldn't have wished it on anybody, especially not her partner's daughter.

She didn't comment on that. "How are you holding up, Martha?" she asked instead.

The eldest Castle tossed her hand in the air in what was supposed to be a flippant move, but clearly meant "I haven't a clue".

"He's my son," she said under her breath, and somehow that was explanation enough.

Kate took the hand that had been resting on her back, squeezing it reassuringly.

"I'm going to go check on my granddaughter," Martha announced. "She'll be happy to know you're here."

She smiled and felt her stomach twist just a little further for not stopping by before. "How about I start dinner?"

After receiving consent and a hug, she slid off the stool and went around to the fridge. As she picked out ingredients for a casserole, her phone rang.

"Beckett," she answered, hoping for once that it wasn't work.

"Kate, it's me." Josh's voice was soft on the other end.

She continued to pull out pans and bowls, keeping her hands busy while she talked. The phone stayed clenched between her ear and shoulder. "Hey."

He took a deep breath, started to speak, and then let it out again before settling on what to say. "How have you been?"

It was almost funny how much that question bothered her lately. "I'm making it," she told him, smiling because for the first time that week, she felt like it was true.

"Good." He cleared his throat in the silence that followed.

"I'm cooking dinner for Alexis and Martha," she offered as she diced chicken.

He sounded surprised at the volunteered information. "That's great. I didn't know you could cook."

The only man she'd cooked for was Castle. She'd been careful to hide her domestic side from everyone else, scared of getting too comfortable. "I don't do it often."

"Ah," he hummed. "Look, Kate-"

She could tell by his tone that he was about to get to the reason he called, so she cut him off. "Did you need something?" Though she tried to ask gently, Josh was stung by her obvious dismissal.

"No," he lied. "I just wanted to check on you."

Beckett felt her stomach twist another few times. "Thanks, but I should go."

She barely heard his muffled goodbye as she hung up. Her mind was busy sending her on a guilt trip, though after everything else, that was becoming more like a guilt pack-up-all-her-shit-and-move. Attempting to ignore the feeling, she finished pouring ingredients into the pan and sprinkled bread crumbs on the top.

Kate set the stove timer and headed into Castle's study, growing more certain with every step that it would be a mistake, but unable to resist.

She shut the door behind her and stared at his desk. Rick's computer was still cracked open, the screen dark. Books covered every surface, scraps of paper sticking out saving his place. His electronic whiteboard was out in the open, only halfway complete.

It smelled like him, she realized after taking a step.

She wanted to wrap herself in his books, the coat hanging off the back of his chair, his writing. Kate wanted that smell to be the only air she breathed.

But she filed that desire away with all the others she was ignoring – namely the urge to scream and lock herself in a dark closet. None of them would help convince the captain she was fit for duty.

Continuing to the shelves, she saw there were a few pictures with his famous smile as he posed with Gina and his poker buddies. Some of them were of Alexis in different stages of her life. These dominated the space.

On his desk there were only two photos.

One was of him, his mother, and his daughter. He had his arms wrapped around Alexis from behind, his chin resting on her head. Martha was smiling beside them, one hand on her granddaughter's shoulder and the other looped through her son's arm. Kate had never seen smiles so huge and heartfelt.

The other was of Beckett, Castle, Esposito, and Ryan. She was perched on the edge of her desk, facing away from them, a look of determination furrowing her brow. Rick was between the boys, the three of them wearing grins that meant they were up to no good.

If Kate remembered correctly, that was taken only a few moments before they all snuck up on her. The trick had resulted in three very sore ears and one pleased detective.

She held both of the frames, understanding that the pictures contained what was most important to him: both of his families.

She desperately wanted to keep from crying, so she put them back in their place and focused on breathing.

The timer went off as she turned to walk out. She took a few more deep breaths, ignoring his scent heavy in the air, and opened the door.

Alexis and Martha were already waiting for her at the table, the casserole cooling in front of them.

They pretended not to know what Kate had been doing, and in return she ignored the tear stains on their cheeks.

"A movie after dinner?" the teen asked, trying to sound hopeful about the idea. Martha patted her hand, happy her granddaughter wasn't going to lock herself away as soon as dinner was over.

"Only if it's something mindless," Kate specified as she took her spot at the table.

"I think I can find something," Alexis responded with a tiny smile.

* * *

><p><em>That night<em>

Eleven rolled around again to find Beckett standing at Castle's bedside, just as it had the past three nights. She'd grown bolder every visit, eventually deciding it wouldn't be harmful to sit on the bed beside him.

So, she sat, holding his hand while she went on about her day, trying her damnedest to ignore the rapidly declining mood. Every smile he didn't return was a blow to the chest.

She'd discovered a pattern. The first hour was like a high; she was happy, or as happy as she could be in this alternate reality she refused to accept as her own. Then came disappointment, because somehow she always had expectations that today would be the day he'd open his eyes. It was all downhill after that.

That's when it went from mindless chit-chat to what was really on her mind.

Tonight she was angry. Letting out some of her steam in therapy had only made her more eager to vent, and he was helpless to stop the onslaught of heated words.

"You shouldn't have stepped in his way," she scolded him. "I always tell you to stay out of the way, and you never listen."

She was squeezing his fingers too hard, but she didn't notice and he couldn't complain.

"You have a daughter, Castle. A daughter, a mother, a partner. You have no right to follow me around and pretend like you're invincible."

And she had no right to let him, pretending like she had no say in the matter.

Beckett balled her free hand into a fist, her face turning red with the effort it took not to physically shake him. "How many times have we been under fire and you've refused to stay in the damn car? We are put in dangerous situations week after week, and you act like the only weapon you need is humor."

He wasn't safe with her. It was something she'd always known but never fully grasped until one wrong step landed him in a hospital. In the end, after all the gunfire and explosions, a fall had taken him down, and she'd be lucky if he ever got back up.

"I should have made you leave," she whispered, more to herself than him.

Her hold on his hand was slipping, and she let it fall back to the bed. In that moment, she made a decision.

If and when he woke up, he wouldn't be allowed to follow her anymore. Even though it pained her to admit it, their partnership had to end before it got one of them killed.

* * *

><p>Lanie hadn't seen Beckett so beaten since...ever. One glance through her peep hole was enough to tell her exactly what state she'd find her friend in.<p>

"Hey," Kate greeted when the M.E. opened the door. "Can I crash here tonight?" She looked around the room to avoid making eye contact.

She gave her a "duh" look before turning to yell into the apartment. "Javier, you're out."

Esposito emerged from her bedroom, looking confused until he saw who was at the door. "Beckett," he said with understanding.

She gave him a short nod as a greeting. "I can go if-"

Lanie cut her off. "Nonsense. My girl comes first."

It only took a minute for him to grab his shirt, kiss Lanie goodbye, and leave.

"Food or sleep?" she asked as soon as he was gone, already headed to the kitchen.

Kate's answer surprised her. "I just need to talk."

Lanie was shocked. She never wanted to talk.

The detective went into Lanie's room and plopped down on the bed, ignoring her friend's raised eyebrows.

Lanie sat beside her, tossing a blanket at her face with a smile. "About time." She let them sit in silence until it was clear Kate wasn't going to start on her own. "What's on your mind?"

Kate still didn't make a move to speak, so Lanie got up to get them both sodas.

It was easier to say to an empty room, though she still fiddled nervously with some loose strings on the comforter. "He's not coming back," she mumbled, barely loud enough for her friend to hear from the kitchen.

Lanie walked back into the room and huffed, holding out the beverage. "Bullshit. You don't know that."

"I don't mean he won't wake up," she clarified, taking her drink gratefully. "I mean no matter what happens he can't come back to the precinct."

Ah, Lanie thought. She'd finally come to the same conclusion the rest of them had been discussing for days. "You're right," she agreed.

Kate looked up in surprise. She'd been prepared for an argument or a pep talk, but not agreement.

Tucking the covers around her legs, Lanie smiled at Beckett's expression, waiting for her to say more when she was ready.

It took several sips and some fidgeting before she spoke again. "I can live with that." She wasn't as convinced as she sounded.

There was no doubt she was a capable detective. She didn't need Castle to help solve cases, but he made her more excited to go to work in the morning, and he shared the burden that came with a lost life. She'd grown accustomed to his presence.

"Sure you can," her friend agreed, interrupting her thoughts. "You'll sulk for a while, but you'll get used to the way things were before."

"It's going to piss him off," she grumbled.

The M.E. tsk-ed. "So? Since when has that stopped you from doing what's right?"

Beckett looked at her, some of her old fire burning in her eyes. "It won't stop me."

Lanie arched an eyebrow, impatiently waiting for the "but" that was to follow. She wasn't disappointed.

"But I think it would stop him from trying to see me at all." She hated how vulnerable that made her sound, how much it clearly affected her.

"He won't stay mad forever," she assured the detective. "If a coma doesn't keep him away, then neither can you."

They both chuckled softly at how true that was.

Kate's smile faded first. She took a deep breath and faced away from her friend's concerned eyes. "I just miss him," she whispered.

Lanie wrapped an arm around her shoulder, heart breaking for her friend. "I know, honey."

"Do you think he'll wake up?" Her voice was still soft, muffled by the blanket she'd pulled up to her chin.

Something in the way she asked let Lanie know it was a serious question. She wanted the truth, no matter what it was.

"I don't know. If he shows no sign of improvement after a couple of weeks, the chances get slimmer." She moved her arm tighter around Kate's shoulders.

Beckett nodded. "Thank you."

They finished their drinks in silence until Lanie tried and failed to stifle a yawn. "You gonna be able to sleep?"

"I haven't slept in a week," she muttered with a shrug.

"Well, this bed always seems to do the trick with Esposito," she joked, smiling when Kate did.

"You're a lucky girl," Beckett retorted, laying down and turning on her side, her eyes sliding shut.

"That's what he tells me." She rolled the opposite way and flipped off the lights. "Goodnight."

It wasn't the "until tomorrow" Kate had been missing, but she felt a little better as she drifted off.

* * *

><p><em>Sorry if this leaves something to be desired. Some personal stuff came up before I could finish editing, so this is what we're left with. Thanks for the amazing feedback so far. Reviews are joy.<em>


	4. The Second Week

On a normal day, Kate drank several cups of coffee. With her partner gone, she drank twice as much. Her visits to the coffee machine – the old one, not the one _he_ bought - nearly outweighed the amount of time she spent doing paperwork.

Each time she walked back to her desk, she carefully avoided looking at the empty seat residing by it. She could feel his absence without looking. She could _always_ feel it.

As the detective walked back in the bullpen from the break room, she saw that Alexis was sitting in Castle's chair. She felt her face crumble, grief overcoming her for a brief moment until she could cram it all back inside.

That's the wrong Castle, and it could be the last one to sit there.

"Alexis," Kate greeted, surprising them both with how normal she managed to sound. "I didn't expect to see you here. Is everything okay?"

The teen gave her an "of course not" look, displaying it without mercy. "Things have been better. You didn't answer my calls, so I decided to stop by." Straight to the business at hand, ready to rip off the Band-Aid on a wound that should have been stitched up in the first place.

It was clear she demanded an explanation for why she hadn't stopped by or made contact in four days, but Beckett didn't have a satisfactory answer. She sat in her own chair, leaning toward Alexis as she spoke. The detective rested her head in her hands, rubbing her temple. "I'm sorry. I was going to call you back tonight."

The young girl looked at her dubiously, but bit her tongue to keep from starting a fight. "The doctor talked to us again today."

Beckett sucked in a breath and sat up. She didn't want to hear this, but Alexis looked so…broken and in need of someone to tell.

_Be strong, Kate_, she told herself. _It's the least you can do after getting her father hurt._ "What'd he say?" she whispered, barely loud enough for Alexis to hear.

"That it's 'still a waiting game', but he hasn't gotten any worse. They're going to do more tests in a few hours." She held herself together with arms crossed over her chest, fists balled tightly.

They sat in silence, mulling over his words, taking care not to think too hard about what it would entail: patience none of them had, worry, empty time that would hold no meaning.

"Will you come when he tells us the results?" Alexis sounded so small as she asked, eyes flitting around to items on the desk between them instead of focusing on her.

Kate's stomach churned. She almost preferred the silence over this conversation. "I have a suspect coming in soon, so it depends on how the interrogation goes."

Their eyes met for the first time. They reacted like two positive magnets, repelling away from each other with a force that couldn't be reckoned with.

Alexis scoffed at her cowardice. "You can't spare an hour of your time? This is important." _I need you,_ her face was saying underneath the resentment.

"I…I'm sorry." She grasped for more words, wishing not for the first time she had Castle's ability to string them together with ease.

The teen waited for a more suitable response, but received only silence. It flipped a switch in her, turning on an anger she never revealed. She snorted in disbelief. "Sorry? Look, you don't owe me anything, but he deserves better than your absence."

Kate jolted back like she'd been slapped, blinking rapidly. "My absence? What-"

Alexis interrupted her. "Oh, that's right, you _aren't_ absent. You just go see him after visiting hours." When Beckett looked surprised, she explained with a biting tone. "Your secret's out. A nurse told me. Why do you visit so late? To avoid us?"

Beckett rolled back and pulled both hands through her hair, stress mounting. "That's not it at a-"

She didn't let her get anything more in before her eyes were filled to the brim with tears and words spilled out of her mouth. "He can tell what's going on, okay? He'll wake up and need us to help him get better." She was pleading for Kate not to argue, to just go along with it and agree that he could most definitely tell what was going on around him; that he'd wake up and not have missed a moment.

Beckett could only stare helplessly, too many sentences running around in her head to pick from. She wanted to fight back, but Alexis looked fragile and it struck a maternal nerve in her. She wanted to run, but her pride kept her frozen in place.

"I was counting on you to help, but obviously I have the wrong person for the job," she muttered bitterly, snatching a Kleenex off the desk.

The detective was lost in the turmoil that was Alexis' emotional hurricane colliding with her own. Her mouth must have opened ten times, shutting without making more than a popping sound.

"I'm going home," the teen sighed, drained from her outburst and unsatisfied with Kate's silence.

Her mind finally began to cooperate. "Alexis," Kate pleaded, reaching out to the retreating girl. "I'm not avoiding you." _It's just too real in the daylight,_ she thought but couldn't say.

The youngest Castle shook her head, passing Beckett's outstretched arm and heading toward the elevator.

"Beckett," Esposito beckoned from the interrogation room, Ryan leading a man inside. "You comin'?"

The doors slid shut and blocked Alexis from her view, so she turned and nodded in the boys' direction.

Her mind wasn't in any condition to be functioning in a work environment after that argument – could it even be called that if she hardly said anything? - much less conducting an interrogation.

Especially since she hadn't done so without Castle yet. She'd let other people take over for the past two weeks, and today was supposed to be her grand return. A simple case that nearly shut itself, and she was walking into the room with her guard up in all the wrong places, leaving spots vulnerable to attack.

"Mr. Muller, I'm Detective Kate Beckett," she began as always, sitting down and placing her folder on the table before her.

He grinned, his eyes roaming her body. "Pleasure," he drawled in a heavy southern accent.

She suppressed the urge to gag. "It's about to be mine," she retorted, slapping down a stack of photos. "Care to explain what you're doing in these pictures?"

He looked them over briefly, his smile faltering only slightly. Relaxing his chair to lean on the back legs, he pursed his lips. "Takin' a leisurely boat ride."

Beckett was accustomed to difficult suspects, especially smart-ass ones with the intelligence of a cucumber. But this cucumber was picking the wrong day to screw with her.

"At two in the morning?" Her eyebrows skyrocketed, indicating she wouldn't put up with his bullshit.

"Yes ma'am. Got the lake to myself." Her tone only made him set the chair down on all fours so he could cross his arms and legs in defiance.

Her fingers tapped while she sized him up. When she knew he was paying close attention, she made a soft noise of disappointment. "I don't buy it," she told him, flipping to the next shot. "See this?" Kate pointed.

In the picture, he was tossing something overboard. Something that looked suspiciously like a gun.

Muller at first stared at her face instead of the photo, but curiosity won over and his eyes flicked down, opening wider in surprise. He took a moment to collect himself before his lips turned up. "You caught me red-handed," he admitted. "I'm a litterbug."

Beckett rose to tower over him. On the other side of the glass, Esposito and Ryan moved closer to the door, ready to step in if she went too far.

Her hands were planted firmly on the steel table to prevent her from punching the smile off his face. "You think this is funny?"

His posture showed every indication of thinking exactly that.

"You'll find jail time hilarious, then," she spat out. Her face was bright red.

The boys knew her posture as the one right before she slammed a suspect against the glass, and they had firsthand experience with how short her fuse was on a bad day.

They turned the knob and opened the door, beckoning to her silently. She mouthed 'what?' but they only beckoned more. Irritated, she walked out of the room.

"What?" she whisper-yelled when they were out of the suspect's earshot.

Ryan looked at his partner, slightly frightened of the intense waves of anger radiating off her. Esposito just shook his head.

"Want us to take over?" he offered, though it wasn't so much a question as it was a kind way of informing her that a decision had been made.

"I had it under control," she said to herself more than them, but she made no move to go back into the room.

"We've got it from here," Ryan assured her with a sweet but nervous smile. She returned it with a glare.

Closing her out, they picked up where she left off, leaving her to brew in her anger.

She only had time for one crappy cup of coffee before they wrapped up the interrogation and Muller was led away in cuffs.

They went straight over to her, approaching with caution when they noticed how tightly she was holding her beverage.

"What the hell was that?" Beckett asked as soon as they entered the break room. She set down her mug on the counter with a clang, crossing her arms as she waited for an explanation.

Esposito held his arm out slightly as a barricade. "You were getting out of hand," he told her with no sugar-coating.

She took a step toward them, but they held their ground. "I had it under control," she reiterated.

Ryan moved himself back an inch and gulped. "We know the look you had, Beckett. With everything that's happened, we can't blame you for getting mad, but it wasn't-"

She laughed disbelievingly. "You didn't step in because of a look I had. You were both being overprotective and hovering. I can handle an interrogation without C-" Kate tongue stuck on his name, but they knew exactly who she was referring to.

"I don't doubt that," Esposito said softly, lowering his hand. "But you haven't been yourself, and the last thing we need is a lawsuit if you lose your temper."

She let that sink in before motioning to two chairs. "Sit," she commanded the boys, taking a spot near the table.

They did so with full knowledge it would give her the higher ground, and with it came control in a situation where she was likely to blow a fuse. This was about to become a yelling match.

"I shouldn't have to say this at all, so I'm only going to say it once." The calm in her voice was threatening to break, but she cleared her throat and closed her eyes until she wasn't imagining tossing everyone into the same cell as Muller.

"I've been doing this longer than both of you," she started, discovering that pacing helped her stay in check. "I know how to conduct an investigation."

"We know," Ryan interrupted. He regretted it as soon as she stopped pacing and set her glare on him.

"So stop treating me like I'm going to fall apart any second." Beckett's voice wavered, but she stood strong, ready for their argument.

Esposito shook his head and positioned himself where he was ready to spring up any second. "Don't act like we were being unreasonable." His voice matched hers with intensity and command. "We've seen you push tables over and assault suspects, and we stood by every time until it was too late."

Ryan nodded and looked at her with sympathetic eyes. "If we hadn't stepped in when we did…" He debated over where to take that, settling on a less accusatory path. "The captain would have pulled you off the case."

"Maybe even suspended you," Esposito agreed.

Her fists slammed down on the table. Everyone questioned her ability to function all because of _one _man. The doubt was almost worse than the pain. "I wasn't going to overreact," she assured them, though the undisguised fury in her words didn't help drive the point home.

"You're detectives, not bodyguards. Don't act like it's your job solely to protect me from myself or anyone else." Her hands stayed on the table, keeping her at eye level with them.

Ryan sensed the shift in his partner before Kate did, and he reached out a hand to rest on his arm, as if to warn him.

Esposito ignored the unspoken warning. He stood, his body forcing Beckett to back up. "Maybe we wouldn't act like that if you didn't come in here looking like the walking dead every day."

"How am I supposed to look?" Her voice cracked, but she didn't flinch when suddenly there were only a few inches between them.

He shrugged one shoulder, his arms crossing to match hers. "Maybe like a freaking professional instead of an emotional wreck."

Ryan watched the duel between his colleagues – his friends, his partners – and his stomach sunk. Standing, he set his shoulders straight and prepared for everyone's anger to be focused on him. "Are you crazy?"

Kate was the first to jerk her head in his direction, the rest of her body immobile.

"Esposito, just back off," he demanded.

Surprised, Javier listened and took a step away, but he kept one wary eye on Beckett.

Ryan turned to Kate in disappointment. "We overstepped earlier," he admitted, continuing before she could agree. "But you have to stop acting like you're the only one who's hurting right now."

The boys shared a look and Ryan moved his hand to cover one of hers. Beckett kept her arms crossed, refusing to meet their eyes.

She was a stone wall: immovable and unaffected by any argument or reasoning.

"We all miss him," he whispered, voice full of emotion.

She felt the wall crack down the middle and fall away, leaving her standing with no protection. Instead of rushing to build it back up, she relished the freedom.

A single tear spilled over her cheek, and she let it drop with no reservation. Kate finally gripped Ryan's hand, squeezing it lightly. They stood in a tight, silent circle.

xxxx

Kate wanted nothing more than a shower and endless rest in her comfortable bed, but she knew sleep was elusive even when she didn't have a guilty conscience, so she made her way over to the Castle residence.

Alexis opened the door to find the detective with her head hung low. "Hi," she greeted, her voice laced with hesitance.

"Hey," she returned just as inadequately. "Can I come in?"

She shrugged nonchalantly and opened the door wider, sitting back down at the table to look over her schoolwork.

Kate stood awkwardly for a moment, wondering if she should sit with the teen. Not for the first time that night, she questioned if it was a mistake to come here. When she noticed Alexis fiddling with her pencil nervously, she made up her mind and took a seat.

"About earlier," she started, almost laughing at how unsettled her stomach was. "I think maybe we should – I should – clarify."

"Go ahead," she responded with an uninviting tone, still twirling her pencil. However angry and unforgiving she sounded, Kate noticed her body relax in the chair.

She clasped her hands on the table. "I have been going to the hospital after visiting hours," she admitted with a hint of shame, though part of her was proud she'd managed to visit at all. "But it's not to avoid you."

Alexis' eyes briefly left her paper to look at the detective, searching for signs of a lie. Finding none, she put down her pencil and sat back, waiting for her to continue. "Then why?" she prompted softly.

Kate took note of how innocent she appeared. The worry hadn't sunken her face in or formed bags under her eyes. She just looked small and in need of comfort. In need of her father.

Beckett racked her brain for a way to explain herself, but unlike last time they had this discussion, she was calmer and her mind worked more smoothly. She smiled when it hit her.

She reached out a hand and waited until the teen timidly took it. "Do you know that feeling when you're really upset in a classroom full of people? When you're trying to compose yourself and everyone is staring?"

Alexis nodded and looked back at her book to avoid the sincerity in Kate's eyes that would surely bring more tears. The detective didn't need to continue.

The redhead pulled her hand away gently, sitting up and facing Beckett with a strength that countered hers. "You know that feeling when you really need someone and they aren't there?"

It was Kate's turn to turn away now, guilt tearing holes in her stomach. "All too well," she sighed and nodded sadly. "I'm sorry."

Their hands met again, and Alexis squeezed hers reassuringly. "Let's just forget about earlier?" she asked hopefully, a hint of her old smile coming back.

Kate felt one of her own forming in return. "Let's."

Martha chose this moment to descend the stairs, donning only a bathrobe. "What have we here?" she asked. When she took in Beckett's appearance, she clicked her tongue. "You look exhausted."

She hummed in response, not denying it but not willing to give in and admit it. "Long day."

"Why don't you stay here tonight?" Alexis offered, face brightening at the prospect. Martha smiled, her burden eased every time her granddaughter shed a little of the darkness following them all.

Kate immediately tensed and dropped the girl's hand, standing up in preparation to leave. "I really should get going."

Martha completely ignored her attempt to flee. "In fact, you should bring some stuff over and make yourself comfortable for a while. It's empty around here. A third person would be nice."

"Just until Dad gets back," Alexis amended, satisfied when her grandmother nodded. She clung to hope like Beckett clung to privacy.

Kate felt her heart warm – a sensation she'd been missing for two weeks. Still, staying in Rick's home while he was in the hospital felt too much like she was replacing him, and the idea wasn't a comfortable one. "Thank you," she said sincerely, taking a large step back. "I appreciate the offer, but I can't."

Alexis hid the disappointment behind an understanding smile, and Martha just nodded knowingly. "It's an open invitation," she told the detective.

After hugging them both and promising to come back soon, she left and headed to the last stop of the night.

xxxx

Beckett mulled over the unexpected offer in the cab ride to the hospital, still lost deep in thought as she sat by her partner on his bed, venturing as far as to rest her head on his shoulder.

"I think we could all use some understanding," she told him, recycling the same pros and cons she'd been rehearsing for the past hour. "A place to go home to where there are people who won't push you to act normal." A place to go home to with people at all, she added internally.

"But when you come back, there will be a lot of hassle and I don't want to be in the way," she argued, sighing in frustration.

It was a bullshit excuse and she knew it. She was more worried he wouldn't come back at all. If he didn't, she'd have to move out eventually, adding that heartbreak to the already mile-long list.

Kate stopped her monologue short, accepting that it was futile. She was trying to convince herself that she was doing the right thing by declining while simultaneously trying to convince herself to move in.

"What do I do?" she whispered, searching for the answer in his steady breathing.

None came, just as it never did every night before this one.

The difference tonight is she knew exactly what he would want her to do, and she was fighting it regardless.

xxxxxxxx

_I kind of deviated from the "post every 3-4 days" thing, but I'm back on track now. Sorry about that. Also, I forgot to mention and thank beetlebug for coming up with the title for this story (and for being awesomely supportive of my writing). Thanks to softer for her kind editing (and for being sexy)._

_Review and make my day?_


	5. Hope

Kate kept replaying the words in her head. She was shell-shocked, frozen in place by Castle's side, the sound of machines distant in her clouded mind.

"_He's starting to react to more stimuli," the nurse told her._ _When it was clear what she said just wasn't clicking with the detective, she explained. "His condition is improving. There's more of a chance he might emerge from the coma." _

He had a chance._ They_ had a chance.

And she didn't know how to feel about it. Being conscious didn't make him the same man who hit his head. Her dream for the past three weeks had been to see his eyes flutter open again, but it was quickly becoming a nightmare with every second she had to wonder who she would be confronted with.

It was almost laughable now, how Beckett thought the hard part would be waiting to see if he would wake up. She'd discovered a far more difficult prospect to face: a silhouette of who he used to be, a body with its mind lost in the black.

She stared at his eyelids while her heart hammered with uncertainty, stomach coiling in knots while she pondered and worried. Each thought hit her like a hammer, and it was starting to take a toll on her sanity.

As it always did, the moment came when she couldn't look at him without tearing in half when he didn't look back. That was her cue to go home.

Her fingers brushed shaggy hair back from his forehead, the scruff from his face scratching her skin. "See you soon," she promised; it had become her way of saying goodbye every night, knowing he would smile at how hopeful it sounded.

Kate walked out on shaky legs, forcing her blurred eyes ahead instead of behind her, where they always wanted to return.

On the drive to his home, she let a few stubborn tears fall. There was no one around to make her feel weak and judged, no one to offer comfort when nothing they could do would help.

It was late, but she'd gotten into a habit of going to his loft no matter what time it was. Somehow, one of the occupants was always awake, as if to make up for the endless slumber of its owner.

When she arrived, it was to the heart-wrenching scene of Alexis hugging her mother tightly, Martha standing in the background with a disappointed frown. She was catapulted into the mix of emotion ranging from frustrated to helpless.

"Kate," the older woman greeted, clearly glad she interrupted. "You've met?" The hand holding her glass of wine tipped in Meredith's direction unceremoniously while her eyebrows rose, as if to say, "If not, it's my displeasure to introduce you."

"Yes," the detective responded hesitantly. "I didn't mean to barge in on a family moment," she said by way of apology. She awkwardly scanned the room for a nondescript place to stand.

Alexis waved her over, one arm loosely draped around her mom's waist. Though she attempted to smile, her eyes betrayed how uncomfortable she was. "Hi, Kate."

"I can't believe this," Meredith exclaimed in shock to no one in particular. By the look on Martha's face, Kate guessed that wasn't the first time she'd said it tonight.

"It's okay, Mom. The doctor told us he's doing better." She patted the weeping woman on the back, voice trembling and tired.

The image disturbed Beckett on a level she wasn't prepared for. Alexis was the one who needed comforting, yet here she was playing the mature role she'd been forced into with her mother since day one.

Martha beckoned Kate over, whispering into her ear while her granddaughter mumbled reassurances to her mom. "Alexis only told her about the situation last night," she explained.

It hadn't occurred to Beckett that Meredith had been missing from the picture until now – now that she was slapped with the understanding of what Alexis was going through without her mom.

Though by the looks of it, the young girl might be better off without her. She felt distaste boiling in her veins and attempted to keep her glare from coming off as too predatory. "How long has she been here?"

"Too long." Martha shrugged her shoulder and took a sip of her drink. When she caught Beckett's impatient eyes, she gave a more satisfying answer. "About an hour and a bottle of wine ago. They haven't moved more than a foot since. I have half a mind to say something."

The detective held her tongue, though she wanted to agree and start planning their attack. _Why am I reacting so strongly to this?_

Kate examined the scene before her harshly. It was clear by Alexis' body language she was stressed and unhappy with the situation. Meredith, on the other hand, seemed all too comfortable with using her daughter as a human tissue.

"Why didn't she tell her before?" the detective asked, though she was already sure of the answer.

Martha no longer felt the need to keep quiet when Meredith let out a cry so shrill they all flinched. "Alexis doesn't need the drama, so she waited until there was hopeful news." She beckoned to them with her free arm. "You see how well that worked out."

Beckett was certain the woman heard by the eye-daggers sent in their direction. She hummed in agreement, watching as tissues were exchanged and more comforting pats were given.

The door called to her, but she was feeling oddly protective of Alexis and stayed right where she was, as if she was standing on guard. Being a child playing the role of a parent was something that darkly bonded them. However little time they'd spent together before, she was now connected to Alexis by more than just Rick.

It became painful to watch as the seconds droned on into minutes, no end in sight. Kate's desire to step in was quickly turning into a burning need.

She didn't have to overstep any unspoken boundaries, though, because Martha was growing antsy as well. She was nearly buzzing with the energy it required to keep her mouth shut while her granddaughter was upset.

Kate waited, feeling the tension rise until the older woman had a few more sips of wine and couldn't stand it any longer.

Martha cast silence aside. "Alexis, dear, why don't you go upstairs and change?" she suggested with authority. "Meredith," she nearly growled out the name in disgust, "you can see Richard first thing in the morning."

Alexis looked up in surprise and smiled hesitantly at her mom, asking for permission without words. "I'll go with you tomorrow," she offered so she could free herself from the iron grasp she was held captive in.

Meredith nodded and kissed her cheek, squeezing her in a hug that threatened to extend until the end of time. Someone – Kate wasn't if it was Martha or herself – cleared her throat to move things along. "That'd be wonderful, sweetie," Alexis' mom accepted.

Beckett hated the thought of the two of them being alone together, especially since the waterworks were bound to be worse in Castle's presence.

Martha felt the same apprehension. "We'll all go."

Kate's jaw dropped slightly, her tightened fists going slack. _Surely she doesn't mean to include me? _"Uh," she started to question, but a firm grip on her forearm told her it would be best not to argue.

Alexis brightened up at that, saying goodnight more cheerfully and detangling herself from the embrace. She flew to the stairs before anyone started a fight over her.

And then there were three.

"You know where the guest room is," Martha prodded, finally putting what was left of the wine away while the other two woman stood in what felt like a developing battleground.

Meredith didn't budge, ignoring the older woman completely. "Are you staying, Kate?" Her face was somewhat less hostile than intended, what with tear streaks still being visible.

Beckett responded before anyone could volunteer her. "No. I'll just come by in the morning and head to the precinct afterwards." She was starting to feel grateful Martha had invited (if that word even applied) her along. Alexis was going to need all the support she could get.

"Are you staying long?" she heard herself asking with more attitude than intended. Martha chuckled from her spot near at the counter.

"As long as Alexis needs me," Meredith promised.

Though Kate wanted to laugh in disgust, she could hear the sincerity in her voice. She might not be a good mom, or a mom who was ever around when needed, but she was certainly a loving mom. She just didn't love Alexis the way she needed.

Beckett nodded in acceptance, letting the anger drain from her face for Alexis' sake. She sighed to herself, hoping the dramatic display from tonight would be the last one. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

xxxx

Kate pulled the rubber band out of her hair and flopped onto her bed, air rushing out of her lungs in relief. She'd called the precinct and requested the day off, which Montgomery was more than happy to give her. One hour at the hospital had completely drained her of energy, but replaced it with an overwhelming calm.

Now she was faced with more time alone than she'd allowed herself in several weeks. She expected it to fill her with crippling despair, but instead found it cathartic. Her thoughts could now return to Castle without making her cringe. Her muscles could relax; she hadn't realized how much she used them just to keep from crumbling during the day.

She was still scared and lonely in the unknown that surrounded her, but the darkness lifted slightly with the news that he had improved even since the night before.

Whatever came next, he was getting better. Everything else be damned.

Kate let the mattress suck her into its comfort as the sun warmed her skin. She had let herself suffer for too long, believing that if Castle couldn't use his senses, neither could she.

Now it was like breathing for the first time. Each gust of air was precious, each heart beat counting down the seconds until he could share another moment with her.

She let the high run through her at will, powerless to stop it, but this sense of euphoria wouldn't last, she knew. The sun would eventually go down, and she'd have to face another night of uncertainty. With the moon always came second-guessing and questions only time could answer.

With that in mind, the detective made herself get up and keep busy before she could crash. She chose something she could do on auto-pilot, allowing for thoughts she'd kept locked away: the hopeful ones, the ones where he woke up and went back to his family, the ones where he went back to her.

She put her hair back up in a messy bun, rolling up her sleeves and grabbing some gloves and a sponge. Soothing music played in the background as she scrubbed at her counter. She imagined every fleck of dirt was an aspect of her life she had no control over; in ten minutes, she managed to wipe away the coma, the confusion over her rapidly growing bond with Castle's family, and the paperwork waiting for her at the precinct.

With every circular stroke on the marble surface, she told herself he would wake up. It was safe to have hope, the doctor had told them. It was finally safe.

The sound of her phone drowned out the peaceful music, and she made a dash for the ringing device. Tossing her gloves away, she answered breathlessly. "Beckett."

One hand wound its way through her hair when she heard Alexis' broken voice. "Kate, can you come over?"

It was a simple, unrevealing request, but she could hear the restrained tears in the young girl's voice. After leaving her in such high spirits, Beckett was frightened at the sound.

"I'll be right over," she said smoothly, though her heart was beating out of her chest.

Kate hardly had any time to scare herself with terrifying theories before she was knocking on the Castle's door and being let in by Alexis' grandmother.

"She's upstairs," Martha directed her, eyes holding unbridled sorrow.

The detective only nodded, immediately following the sound of crying to the teen's room. She nearly ran up the stairs, dreading what she would find.

"Alexis," she uttered sadly when she entered the room.

The redhead was lying on her bed, clutching a tissue for dear life while she tried to control the sobs racking her body. "I'm sorry," she coughed out, though for what Kate was unsure.

"Shh," she comforted, resting a hand on her back as she sat by her side. "Tell me what's going on." God, how she hoped the hospital hadn't called. She'd carefully constructed a bubble of hope; popping it would be the end of her.

"My mom's gone," she said through sniffles, eyes straining to keep from the onslaught of more tears. "I asked her to go."

Kate was at a loss for words, so she just continued to sit there until the crying girl was ready to say more, feeling terribly under qualified for the job of Alexis' confidant.

"I'm used to having one parent," she explained, drawing enough strength from Beckett's presence to sit up. Her voice was clearer, though tears still slid down her cheeks with ease. "I love my mom, but we're better off apart. Dad has always made that easier to bear."

"And now nobody is here to soften the blow," Kate finished for her, relieved she could offer advice in this area.

Alexis nodded meekly, not daring to look at her directly. This – the physical contact, the baring of strong emotion - was new territory for the both of them. She wasn't sure how much she could rely on the detective without scaring her away.

Kate let silence conquer while she thought on how much was too much to share. When she was ready, she braced herself for what she had to say. "Did your dad ever tell you what happened after my mom died?" she asked, brushing damp hair out of Alexis' face.

The young girl took this as encouragement, and she rested her head in Kate's lap, tense and waiting for her move to be rejected. Kate looked surprised, but didn't jerk away. "No. He has more respect for your privacy than you think," Alexis said when she felt it was safe.

That almost got a laugh out of her, but the atmosphere quickly turned more serious as she prepared to share a part of herself she kept heavily guarded at all times. There was no going back once she started.

_This is Castle's daughter,_ she told herself. Whatever she could do to help, she had to do.

"My dad drank," she began, feeling the familiar prickle in her eyes at the admission. "I would come home and find him passed out on the couch. On bad nights, he would be sprawled on the floor with a bottle in his hand."

She swallowed the lump in her throat. The worst part about talking about it was knowing how bad it made him look. While she was the first to admit he'd caused a lot of hell, she was also the first to forgive him.

But she struggled forward, reminding herself that this story ended happily, and maybe contained something helpful for Alexis.

"For years, I had to clean up after him. I had to force him into rehab by threatening to end contact." She sucked in a breath, extricating her fingers from the girl's hair so she could support her weight with two hands behind her back. "When we lost her, it was like he forgot how to be my dad, and so I stopped being his daughter. I was his care keeper."

She shut her eyes briefly to fight back the sting. Alexis' breathing seemed to stop as she listened.

When her voice was strong enough, she whispered, staring straight ahead. "I know what it's like to have only half a parent."

"How did you deal with it?" came the quiet question. She peered up at the detective curiously now that she was sure there would be no tears from either of them.

"By making my own family," she said with a shrug, like it was the easiest thing in the world. "It took some time, but I found the precinct."

"And my dad?" Alexis asked hesitantly, scrutinizing Kate's face while she waited for an answer.

"Him too, eventually. But that's not the point." She backtracked in her mind, thrown off by the question. "The point is I survived it, and the relationship repaired itself when he got help. It changed me, but I'm still here. And if you have to, you'll survive it too, until your mom learns how to actually be a mom."

Alexis soaked this in silently for a minute, eyes puffy but dry and full of apprehension. Kate went back to running a hand through her hair comfortingly. "Do you think I'll have to?"

The detective pulled her legs onto the bed, moving to rest against the headboard and patting the space beside her for the teen. She wound an arm around her shoulders, sighing into her hair. "No, I think he's going to get better." It was the truth, but what she thought and what would actually happen were two different things, and she was all too aware of it.

"I wanted to think so, too," Alexis mumbled. "I'm just not sure anymore. It's been three weeks. I know they said he was improving, but…" her voice trailed off, unable to find an end to the sentence.

There were no reassurances either could give, no lies they could feed each other. All there was to do was live in hope of his recovery, but in reality that it might never come.

In the silence that followed, Kate recalled a promise she had made to take care of Alexis if anything ever happened to Castle. She'd failed to honor her word so far, letting the girl flounder while she selfishly kept her distance.

"I'll stay," she found herself saying. "I'm not your mother, or your father, but I'll stay. We can help each other through this."

Alexis could only smile, body too numb to react fully. She wrapped her arms around Kate's midsection, wanting to ask if she was sure, if she really meant it, but all that came out was a soft, "Thank you."

Martha chose this moment to swing the door open, one hand clutching a phone while the other was pressed tightly against her beating chest. "He's awake."

xxxxxxxx

_Happy now that there's finally hope? Angry that I ended it there? I'd love it if you let me know. Your response, as always, is appreciated. Only three more chapters left in this story!_


	6. Awakening

Martha's news ran through the loft like a gunshot. There was the initial boom, followed by silence as their ears pounded in shock. White lights bloomed around the edges of anything that moved, pulsating and blinding them in the moment their brains registered her words.

When noise and sight and their own existence crashed on top of them, their lungs gave out in a puff. It produced a coughing, choking sound from each of them, resembling a collective "Oh" of disbelief.

Alexis drew Kate to her feet in a rush, pulling her over so they could all stand together. Their arms formed a tight circle around the hope they shared, effectively snuffing out any of its attempts to flee and make room for doubt.

Tears fell to their hands before the three realized they were crying. It only made them hold on harder; whether it was out of happiness or just to keep them from collapsing, none of them knew or cared.

Because at 8 AM, visiting hours would start, and they would be there to see the life the nurse promised had returned to him.

xxxx

Kate felt the stress of waiting seep through her skin in a nervous sweat, only to be replaced with more by the warning from a nurse upon their arrival the next morning.

"He isn't coherent, so don't expect much. We're not sure if and when he will improve, but this is a huge step in the right direction." She said it with a smile, trying to relay happiness along with the dose of harsh reality.

But it only served to make Kate's stomach drop to join her sluggish feet as they battled to take the steps required to make it to his room.

The detective was alone on her journey. Alexis had run into the bathroom before she could make it there, tears streaming down her face. Martha followed, silently displaying the turmoil inside her with a deep-set frown.

Kate stopped at the glass, much like the first night, feeling the same crushing emotions but for different reasons.

This time, though, she walked in and left her cowardice at the door.

His eyes flew to hers, blue and shining like the ones she dreamed about. His face crinkled in confusion, mouth gaping open like he wanted to greet her but didn't know how.

Everything melted away to form a tunnel surrounding the vision of his body sitting up, chest moving without the aid of a machine.

"Oh, Castle," she breathed, covering the remaining distance in an instant. Kate grabbed his hand, nearly jumping back when he squeezed her fingers lightly. It was a movement she had grown accustomed to living without every night for the past twenty-one days.

"Castle." She couldn't stop saying it. It was a prayer, a thanks, a release her tightened heart had been begging for.

She nearly dropped his hand when she saw the emptiness behind his eyes. They were void of emotion, bottomless vacuums sucking out her very essence while she could only stand in awe at the wreckage.

"Mm," he mumbled in lieu of words, still staring at her with no understanding, silently asking the questions his mouth couldn't form.

Kate stood up straighter to get some distance, wiping away her falling tears, still holding onto his hand for dear life. "Castle," she whispered, watching in vain for any sign he recognized her voice. "I've missed you." It was an inadequate summary of her feelings, but words were failing them both.

He started to shift impatiently in his bed, flinching when his sore body protested. Every movement stunned her eyes, for she had burned an image of his immobile form in her mind. She laid a calming hand on his chest, pushing him lightly back down onto the pillows.

When she felt his heart beating fast under her palm, she let her eyes flicker closed for a brief moment, gathering strength from the visual barrier separating his empty face from hers.

Kate let the sound of a ticking clock permeate the air between them, watching every blink of his emotionless eyes. She waited for them to close and never re-open, to wake up with the knowledge this had all been a cruel dream.

She felt him searching her with a pleading, intense stare. His desire to understand – who she was, what she meant to him, what she was looking for as she watched his every move – was tearing at her defenses. She was raw, naked in front of his cloudy eyes.

Her fingers trailed from his chest to his jaw on their own accord as he settled into her touch. There was a war being waged in his mind, synapses frantically searching for a connection. She watched the internal battle with fear; if he lost, she would be lost with him.

Castle's mouth dropped open to leave space for words. He tensed, trying to force something out, but all that could be heard was strained breathing.

Kate's shoulders slumped noticeably and she turned her disappointed gaze to the floor. The silence stretched, filling with disappointments on both sides.

_Just keep breathing_, she silently begged both Castle and herself.

Footsteps were heard in the hall, approaching his room with hesitance. She quickly turned back to him, attempting to dampen wild hopes that he would finally speak and end her torture.

And though he tried again to talk, his body wouldn't cooperate with his brain.

"Alexis is going to be here soon," she told him breathlessly, drawing her fingers across the skin of his face, smiling ever-so-slightly each time his muscles reacted under her touch.

Castle fought through the haze, managing only to tilt his head and let out a string gibberish, some suspiciously sounding like "What?" and "Who?" She pushed a finger to his lips and leaned down to his level.

From this angle, she could see the trapped tears in his eyes. Her heart ached at the sight, nearly stopping under the weight of her pain. She bound their hands together.

"Try to focus," she begged him, legs trembling a threat to give out. "Alexis is about to come in here. She's your daughter. If you can…just call her pumpkin. That's all she needs."

Kate turned away when the footsteps stopped at his door, and she missed the clear expression of understanding on his face at the sound of his daughter's name.

As Martha and Alexis entered cautiously, she recoiled from his bedside like she was being caught committing a crime. Tucking her hair behind one ear, she stood back and watched the scene unfold.

Kate ran to Alexis' side before she could buckle and fall onto the hard, tile floor. Through the ringing in her ears, Kate made out several verses of "Dad," released from the teen's lips.

She was tempted to take a seat on that cold floor and cry with her, tempted to pull Martha down with them as they sunk and let their unpredictable emotions take the reins.

As she began to fall, finally letting the thin veil covering the fissures in her composure be cast to the side, a voice pulled them all out of the darkness.

"Hey, pumpkin," Castle whispered, voice scratchy from lack of use.

She crumpled at the sound, tears streaming around her smile. It was the most beautiful thing she'd ever heard.

xxxx

Kate wanted to go home to Castle's loft, wrap herself in one of his blankets, and replay his two words in her mind.

Two words - that's all they got in the time they spent at the hospital, but it had been enough. Alexis sobbed on his shoulder while he stared at Kate with a look she couldn't quite place.

The emptiness she'd seen at first was replaced with a shadow of gratefulness and understanding. She tried to convince herself it was a figment of her imagination, to trample her hopes before they grew too high, but she watched the shadow blossom to a size she couldn't ignore.

Castle was still in there somewhere, fighting to resurface and enter his own skin again, but she was still faced with the question of whether or not he would succeed and fully be himself again.

So, she was driving past his loft, headed to The Old Haunt for some drinks, because being alone would only make her doubt everything she'd witnessed in his eyes.

Kate walked in to find Lanie, Esposito, and Ryan sitting in the booth under Castle's picture, each holding a beer and laughing.

She stopped in her tracks, soaking in the image and placing it beside the one of Castle's moving chest under her hand.

"Yo!" Esposito called out, holding out an unopened beer for her. His smile was soft, like he knew what had given her pause.

She took her place by Lanie and accepted the drink wordlessly. They all kept their eyes on her while they talked about the latest case, quickly moving onto video games until Lanie coughed loudly and glared.

The boys grinned without apology but turned the subject to what they'd all been avoiding. After a heavy pause, Ryan asked quietly, "How is he?"

Kate felt her stomach lurch. _Just answer their questions and we can move on,_ she thought with a grimace. "He's not all there yet. He managed to say hi, but I don't think he knew what was going on," she said all in one breath, taking a swig of beer when she finished.

Lanie squeezed her arm comfortingly. "He'll get there, honey," she promised.

Esposito nodded in agreement. "Just you wait. Our boy will be irritating the hell out of you again soon."

"And we'll bring the popcorn," Ryan said with a smile.

Kate let them reassure her, ignoring the pain that always accompanied such pointless guarantees about the unknowable. "Yeah, I know," she lied.

"At least he's awake," Esposito added, to which she didn't respond.

There was a beat of silence that descended upon them. Ryan took a look at his friends' faces, stomach twisting with empathy and pain of his own. Raising his glass, he spoke up. "To the little victories," he announced, waiting for their beers to join his.

Esposito and Lanie raised theirs at once. Three expectant faces turned in Kate's direction as she contemplated what to do.

With a look at Castle's picture hanging above them, she joined her drink with theirs. "Take them where you can," she said, the clinking of glasses following in agreement before they all took a gulp.

"So, tell me. What bet did Montgomery lose to make him shave off the mustache?" Kate asked with a raised eyebrow.

A chorus of laughter was released, shattering the tension. Esposito took over the story. Ryan made a few unwanted comments until the former threatened the latter's life and beer if he piped up again. Grumbling under his breath, Ryan ceased to interrupt.

Kate found herself laughing for the first time in weeks. It burned her stomach and scratched her throat, her body unfamiliar with the sensation after so long, but it was the most exquisite pain she'd ever experienced.

They kept the subject away from anything Castle-related for the rest of the evening, relishing the happy moment while it lasted. Come tomorrow, they would have to face Castle's condition head-on. Tonight, they drank and laughed in the face of reality.

xxxx

Kate slipped off her shoes as she walked through the door, silently making her way toward Castle's bedroom.

She stopped halfway there, noticing an unmoving body on the couch. It was Alexis, a blanket strewn across her feet. Her face was peaceful, though a few tissues on the floor told Kate she'd had a hard time falling asleep.

She picked up the blanket gently, laying it across the teen with care. Alexis snuggled further into the cushions, sighing contentedly.

Kate smiled at the sound, a feeling of warmth spreading to her toes while she snuck away to her original destination. When the door clicked shut behind her, she let out a deep breath.

A book rested on his nightstand, a scrap of paper peeking out of its pages. One of his white t-shirts was pooled on the floor by his bed, and she suspected it was the one he wore to sleep.

She tossed her purse haphazardly to the side, steadily approaching the abandoned garment.

Kate pulled it to her chest, falling to the side onto his mattress. She curled up with her head on his pillow, tucking the shirt under her chin. If she closed her eyes and concentrated, his scent surrounded her and she could pretend he was right by her side.

It was the first night she let sleep take over without a fight, without tears, without any doubts crossing her mind. He would come to his senses; it was only a matter of time.

xxxxxxxx

_The delay in posting this was the fault of a computer virus and crazy family being in town. This chapter was actually what went through my mind when I came up with this story. Sorry it's a short update, but I hope you like it anyway. Thank you so much for the feedback so far. It makes me smile. _


	7. Reality

_Two days later…_

Kate dressed in jeans and her favorite hoodie – the one with sleeves too long for her so she could wrap her hands in the ends. It was her comfort outfit, the one she wore when the night was long and cold no matter the actual temperature.

She would need it for the conversation she was about to have with Castle's nurse. They'd already heard every possible scenario for what was to come, and she'd spent hours going over it with Lanie, demanding the hard facts rather than a watered-down version of the truth. Some possibilities kept her up at night, and others made it easier to get through the day.

But now it was time to have a one-to-one discussion about his test results and what the doctors thought was most likely going to happen. There would be no more useless fretting or dreaming; it was time to trade in the unknown for what would become his future – and consequently, hers.

Kate walked with determination, a sense of finality settled snuggly on her shoulders. She wasn't afraid anymore; uncertainty was far more frightening. Come what may, she would find a way to cope. _Please don't make me cope without you._

"Detective Beckett," Nurse Spencer greeted from her station, holding up a clipboard in the direction of a more private location.

They entered the empty conference room, switching on the lights to reveal a long table and at least a dozen chairs. Kate took a seat facing the door, folding her hands on the wood and waiting with a calm exterior to disguise her impatience.

"Before we start," Kate spoke, interrupting her offer of a glass of water. "I need to ask that you be completely honest with me. After three weeks of waiting, nothing you tell me could possibly be worse than what I've been thinking."

The nurse sat down with her own cup, the tapping of her long nails interrupting the short silence that followed. "Fair enough."

Kate took that as a promise, relaxing in her seat with a sigh of relief.

Flipping a few pages on her clipboard, Nurse Spencer cleared her throat to begin. "He won't be physically handicapped in any way. He'll need to undergo some therapy to regain complete mobility, but we don't suspect that will at all be an issue."

Kate held out one finger where the other woman couldn't see. "The physical, the intellectual, the emotional," she repeated to herself. Those were the areas to worry about.

Scanning the next page, the nurse continued. "He's able to speak coherently now, and perform normal, day-to-day activities. Just going by looks of things, he's normal."

She wasn't sure whether or not that constituted another finger in her countdown, so she raised an eyebrow. "By the looks of things?" Her muscles tensed despite the soothing, logical mantras she'd mentally recited all day to prepare herself.

Hesitance passed through Nurse Spencer's brown eyes, followed by compassion as she put aside her notes. She almost reached out for Kate's hands, but thought better as she remembered the detective's near-hostile reaction when her co-worker attempted to stop her on one of her late night visits.

"Mr. Castle is having filter issues, meaning he follows every impulse with no regard for consequences." She shifted in her seat, letting that sink in while she held back the worst part. "Also, he can only recognize people he knows based on feelings. For instance, he sees his daughter and feels love and an urge to protect her, but from what we can tell, he doesn't have any actual memories of her."

Kate let her fingers go slack, losing count because the one thing she'd been relying on had just disappeared into thin air. "I don't understand," she whispered, though she understood completely.

"He's going to stay here in our therapy wing for about two weeks. The staff there will do everything they can to jog his memory. We have high hopes."

That seemed to conclude their meeting, and the nurse stood to indicate as much. "Will you be visiting Mr. Castle tonight," she asked softly, suddenly more than willing to bend the rules for the crushed woman before her.

Kate nodded and walked out on jelly legs. After steeling herself for the truth, going over all the details and his chances, she had failed to prepare herself for this.

If she were being honest with herself, she knew she couldn't have accepted anything other than a promise for a complete recovery, a clean bill of health. This was Castle they were talking about - the man who defied all odds and believed in magic.

She just needed to see him, to break into the safe hiding all of his memories. Surely the nurse was wrong; how could he feel something without remembering why? How was it possible?

Once she was clear of the nurse's station, she walked quickly to his room, gaining momentum with each doorway she passed, irrationally worried he would be in even worse condition than she was told.

When she stopped at the door, leaning against the frame while she caught her breath, he smiled at her from where he was standing at the window.

"Castle," she sighed, letting relief course through her veins alongside the adrenaline.

He walked slowly in her direction, legs shaky but moving at a steady pace. She pulled away as his arms opened up to her, but he ignored the signal and wrapped her in a hug.

"I've missed you," he breathed into her hair.

Caught off guard, her defenses lowered enough to allow her to enjoy the feeling of his arms surrounding her. She leaned into his weight, breathing deeply.

Then she realized what was happening and jerked out of his embrace, his alien instinct terrifying her. His words, his touch, didn't warm her heart.

She was glad of the obstacle between them when she moved across his room and to the other side of his bed. Kate counted to ten, breathing as normally as possible with all the conflicting emotions coursing through her.

Castle's smile faltered, and he stood completely still, unsure of what he did to cause such repulsion. She could see the hurt clearly, but she didn't allow his pull on her to bring her back to his arms. That wasn't them. They didn't hug.

"You're up," she commented lamely, staring at a blanket while they both mulled over what to do.

"They're moving me soon," he said, running a hand through his hair in confusion. "Did I do something?" It came out meekly, resembling that of an anxious little boy.

That wasn't them either, bringing things out into the open instead of shoving them into a closet where they belonged. "No, of course not," she lied with her most convincing smile.

He may not have his memories, but something about that smile told him she wasn't being honest. After several conversations with a hospital therapist, though, he understood that his impulses might unsettle people. He would need to re-learn his relationships and what was normal for each one. "Do we not hug?" he asked, hoping she'd say they did. He wanted to touch her more than he wanted to leave this hospital.

Kate was glad she didn't have to lie this time. "No, not really." She crossed her arms in discomfort, realizing that when she thought he had boundary issues before the coma, she was definitely wrong.

"But I want to," he told her with no shame or hesitation, taking a few steps toward her even as she backed herself into a corner. His therapist's words still rang out clearly in the back of his mind, but he ignored the annoying buzz and continued to push her.

After all the time she spent wanting to be near him, it wasn't as appealing a prospect now. It would be like hugging a stranger in the shell of her partner's body. "I-I'm sorry," she floundered for words, deeply unsettled by his lack of filter. The nurse hadn't fully prepared her for this.

Castle seemed to read the panic in her stance, and it was enough only to stop his physical advance. "Don't you feel the same way for me?" he asked from a distance.

Kate couldn't believe the conversation he was trying to start with her. Of all the times he could have brought this up, all the times they could have just stopped the bullshit and put their hearts on the line, he chose to do it now, while recovering from a coma.

It nearly made her laugh. Of course it would go like this. They never could do a single thing normally.

"What way?" she responded on instinct, keeping herself safe and daring him to be bold enough to finally jump in to whatever it is they had.

He gave her a disapproving look, though it faded as he tried to come up with the words she was sure he didn't have the guts to say. "I don't know," he admitted. "When you walked in, it's like the room got brighter. I forgot about everything I've forgotten. You make being in this place bearable."

Kate sucked in a surprised breath, the air hitting her lungs like knives. He hadn't lost his talent with words, she noted with a tinge of relief under her alarm. Playing coy was obviously the wrong way to go with him now. He wouldn't back down and give her an easy out.

She wound the sleeves of her hoodie through her fingers, bunching the material like a stress ball. "You haven't even been released from the hospital yet. We can talk about this later," she said dismissively, flinging out the only defense that came to mind.

Castle only ignored her feeble attempt to change the subject, turning her refusal to discuss what they were into a denial of her feelings. Frustration had been building ever since emerging from the coma; frustration over his inability to remember and his skewed view on his relationships. It made him quick to anger.

"If you don't feel the same way, then why the hell did you visit me every night?" he asked with venom that contrasted the loving softness in his eyes.

"How did you-" she started in shock, but he cut her off.

"A nurse mentioned it," he said, voice still raised. "Just tell me the truth," he demanded, pleaded, begged. He needed someone to treat him like a person capable of handling the truth, not a patient with a damaged brain who had to be coddled and fed lies.

Kate's hands poked back out of her shirt so she could point an accusatory finger in his direction, but for the life of her she couldn't think of any way to combat his request. Her hand fell to her side in defeat as she gulped back the fear like a bitter pill. "Because you're my partner," she answered as honestly as she could.

Castle lowered his voice, shoulders sinking. His gut told him that was the most she would offer up, but it was always in his nature to go one step further, and that hadn't changed. "So you don't love me?" he whispered, palms clammy with a nervous sweat.

She could see how unnerved he was as he shifted his weight from foot to foot, uncomfortable with the situation – with her – even though he had no memories to draw from telling him to feel that way.

Kate looked him over, his moving, breathing body a sight for her sore eyes even as his words burned through the ice covering her heart in thick layers.

She'd had enough of this conversation, enough of his uncontrollable urges. She wanted to go home and puzzle through the events of her day before the stress swallowed her whole, whether that required shouting into a pillow or an endless bath.

But he was near the exit, forcing her to pass him on the way out. She had no choice but to feel the warmth resonating off his skin, and with that the complete helplessness he couldn't hide.

Compassion swelled up to the breaking point. "I never said that," she mumbled under her breath as she walked through the door.

xxxx

Heading home for a nap rather than Castle's place, Kate kept picking at one thought during the cab ride: how was she going to be able to handle him like that if he didn't improve, and soon?

The way she saw it, she could deal with his lack of memories. It would be like starting over with a fresh slate. They could all share stories and help him figure out who he was. She knew it wouldn't be easy, not by a long-shot, but it was possible. It was a scenario she could wrap her mind around, even though it was painful.

What she couldn't accept after that conversation with him? His complete lack of respect for personal space and how he spoke what was on his mind with no regard to how uncomfortable it made other people.

Kate could only imagine the kind of trouble it would get him into, and that was without taking into consideration their unspoken rule: If in doubt, don't push.

They fought tooth and nail to bottle up the passion yearning to be unleashed, to keep their mouths shut so they wouldn't show any vulnerability. It was a delicate dance, revealing pieces of their feelings little by little without tipping their hand.

He had just slammed all of his cards on the table and tried to take a peek at hers, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt he would keep trying until she gave up. Castle's brain damage rendered him incapable of acting otherwise.

This gave Kate very few options, and even fewer that kept her dignity intact. She couldn't leave Alexis and Martha alone in their role as caretaker and get any sleep at night. It would be wrong.

That therapy better work fast, she grumbled as she let herself through the front door of her apartment.

Because until it did, she was stuck with the unfiltered, ballsy version of Castle she'd just caught a glimpse of, and if only ten minutes of it left her completely drained, she would be a goner in no time.

However daunting the task, Kate was resigned to one plan of action: spending time with the Castle family while they all healed, because she'd undoubtedly joined them and couldn't turn her back now, but she would never be left alone with Castle himself.

As she tossed her purse to the side and walked into her bedroom, something caught the corner of her eye. She turned to get a better look and was faced with the words "Heat Rises" in bold, white letters.

It made her stomach turn summersaults. Without knowing it at the time, she'd already finished what was likely to be Richard Castle's last ever book.

She was struck with the unquenchable desire to throw the book out of her window and watch it fly into the wind, never to be seen again.

That would be littering, though, so she settled for grabbing it roughly and searching frantically for a large enough box to fit her whole collection.

First to go were the three Nikki Heat novels, tossed in like touching them would burn her fingerprints until they were black.

Next were the unsigned editions of her Derek Storm books, the edges of the hardbacks worn away from years of opening and closing its pages.

She could almost hear Castle reading the words to her over the sound of books being carelessly dropped, smacking against their partners in the confined space.

The last one she held onto for a moment, eyes glassy as she stared at the scrawl under the first flap.

"To the lovely Kate, may these words be everything you need them to be. Rick Castle."

It was a simple enough message, and he hadn't known enough about her at the time to realize just how much his books meant to her. Despite that, she'd always read over what he said when their lives crossed at that book signing, years before they intertwined indefinitely.

Scoffing at her emotional reaction, Kate added it to the rest of the castoffs and closed the flaps, nudging the box with her feet until it rested at the bottom of her closet.

She made a promise to herself never to open it again. That phase of her life was over. There was no use in reminding herself of the way things used to be.

Kate closed the closet doors and eased herself into bed, texting Alexis to let her know she wouldn't be by until tomorrow. After turning her phone off and emerging herself in darkness with the flick of a switch, Kate slept fitfully for the next thirteen hours.

xxxxxxxx

_For Jade, on her special day. Congratulations on the big, scary step forward. _

_To the rest of you guys, thanks for your awesome reviews. The next and final installment will be posted in a few days._


	8. The End

At some point in the past three months, the 12th had found a new rhythm without the presence of Castle. The solve rate maintained a steady high even without the chair that used to reside by Beckett's desk. Detectives filtered in and out of the elevator doors and finally stopped looking in her direction, checking for the writer and examining Beckett's face for any signs of an impending mental breakdown.

At least four times a week she stopped by Castle's loft, never having to worry about being alone with him. They'd instituted a babysitting system: either Martha or Alexis had to be home at all times to monitor his phone and computer usage, not to mention to hide the keys. After bringing him home from the hospital, they quickly realized he not only had no control over what he said, but he also had a spending problem. They were lucky he'd made so much money, or they'd be out on the streets by now.

He'd slowly learned how to read body language more effectively and steer clear of embarrassing questions. They told him when he crossed a line, and while he at first would argue, he eventually accepted that he couldn't trust his own mind and had to trust theirs instead.

Each of Beckett's visits reflected how much progress he made from that day's therapy session at the hospital. He went from spewing his feelings and making everyone want to crawl out of their skin to remaining silent when his thoughts were too intruding.

Slowly they shared old photos and reminisced over the times they shared. Beckett shared some heroics from the precinct, but mostly watched from outside their circle, pleased to see him smile when Alexis made a point to let him know what a wonderful father he was.

Alexis had grown up a lot in three months. While Beckett and Martha both encouraged her to go out and have a social life, she felt responsible and would stay home most nights to watch over her dad. She obsessed over sharing every little thing she remembered, even going so far as to keep a diary with her so she could jot down her thoughts on the spot.

Beckett watched the youthful cheer fade from her expression, replaced by a heavy weight she carried with grace. She didn't share the burden willingly, wouldn't dare ask for help. In her mind, he'd taken care of her for her entire life. She wasn't going to let him down when he needed her most, even if it tore apart the life he'd worked hard to give her.

Martha stopped drinking a few days after he arrived home. The wine had to go anyway, or Castle would sniff it out and his tendency to cross lines would only worsen. The last thing this family needed was a tipsy grandmother on top of an incapable father and an over-burdened daughter.

They somehow made it through each day with a smile, rejoicing every small step Castle made in the right direction. Despite all evidence that he wasn't going to simply wake up and remember his life from BC (before coma), they went to bed with the hope tomorrow would be different.

Beckett knew better than to look on the bright side, though; it only blinded her, and that's when unpleasant surprises got in a blow before she could raise her fists. She carried on with her job, did what she could to help the Castles, and tried her damnedest to keep the nightmares away when she finally fell asleep at night.

Regardless of the display of strength, their system had many flaws, and it couldn't continue forever. They were behind on sleep for weeks at a time, and the guilt hallowed out Castle's cheekbones and darkened the bags under his eyes.

They all knew the day would come when their structured lives would fall prey to chaos. All expected it. All waited for it.

The waiting stopped with one phone call to Beckett's desk on a Tuesday morning, right as she sat down. "Beckett," she answered with a smile, recognizing the number as Alexis'.

"I need a favor." Alexis was hesitant, pausing in the short sentence more than was necessary.

"Anything," she assured her, confident it wouldn't be anything too huge. On more than one occasion Alexis had asked her to make a quick run to the store while Martha was away. Surely this favor would be something along those lines.

"Gram had to go take care of something at the bank and then run by her acting class, and I have a test in third period," she rushed, the request implied rather than voiced.

Beckett hoped she was jumping to the wrong conclusion, but the drop of her stomach had her grateful she was sitting down for this. "Yes?"

"I need you to watch him for a few hours."

The sound of her agreement seemed miles away; she was stuck in her own mind, eyes clenched shut as she tried to steady her breathing. He'd improved. Maybe he wouldn't be that bad.

But she knew that was just hopeful thinking. It was clear in the way he looked at her every night that he wanted to finish that conversation from the hospital, wanted to ask her questions about their partnership he'd learned not to bring up in front of his family. Now he would have his opportunity.

She hung up, sitting still for minutes before gathering the courage to walk out of the precinct and into a situation she swore to herself she would keep away from.

xxxx

Her stomach did an entire Cirque du Soleil performance on the way to Castle's loft. She tried convincing herself it would go well, but her mind knew better, and her stomach readily agreed.

Years of hiding her nerves helped give Kate the appearance of being cool and collected. She knocked no differently than usual, smiled when Alexis opened the door, and stepped in with no sign of trepidation. She casually scanned the room for Castle, but he was nowhere to be found.

"Dad's trying to write," Alexis told her knowingly. "The Wi-Fi is turned off, so you don't have to watch him." Grabbing her purse, she stopped with one hand on the door. "Gram will be back in just a couple of hours. You'll be fine."

Kate nodded, trying to convey she wasn't worried at all, though they both knew better. "Knock 'em dead," she told the young girl.

Alexis grinned and nodded before finally shutting the door, effectively stranding Kate with the only thing in this world she truly feared.

The silence that followed the door clicking shut disturbed her, sending chill bumps down her arms. In it hung the decision of whether she should approach him and end the awkwardness between them or if she should sit on the couch and try to ignore his presence.

She sighed, resigning to the inevitability of this conversation. He was seeking answers to questions he had every right to ask, and she'd stood by and given out the bare minimum as a response. Kate needed to walk in there and tell him the simple facts: there were feelings from both sides, but nothing had been done about it, and nothing will be done about it because everything is fucked up and confusing on a level she'd never come across before.

Bracing herself, she walked into his study, grateful that his back was turned so she didn't have to look at him when she started this conversation. He didn't appear to have heard her approach, which only disappointed her a little. This would be easier if he could address it first.

"Ahem," she coughed, smiling when he jumped in his seat, turning to face her in shock.

Once it registered that she was there while his family was not, the shock morphed into a massive sigh of relief. He set the laptop down and gestured to a chair opposite his desk, which she gladly sat in. "I'm surprised," he told her honestly, as was custom.

Kate blushed, a response far out of reach. Her eyes fell on a stack of paper near the edge of the desk. "What's that?" she asked with curiosity, though her only interest was in delaying the conversation she'd set off to have when she walked in. Without meaning to, she'd become a walking contradiction, an embodiment of conflicting emotions.

He stretched his arms above his head and sighed, pulling out the breath from deep inside. "My failed attempts at the next Nikki Heat novel."

Her eyebrows rose and fell without permission. "I didn't realize you were still planning to continue that." Her thoughts turned to the forgotten box in her closet and the layer of dust resting on top.

Castle shrugged. "I want to. I've read the first three books and all of my notes. Luckily I had the case outlined already, but it isn't doing much good. I can't feel it, you know?" His eyes searched hers for understanding.

"Hmm, yes," she offered in reply, sorry she'd asked and afraid he would ask to shadow her again. She hadn't gotten around to telling him he never could step a single, inspiration-seeking foot inside the precinct as long as she was around to stop him. They would cross that bridge when they came to it.

"Could you read it?" he asked, almost sounding nervous.

Kate studied his face and the stack of paper he now held out to her expectantly. "Sure," she agreed, handling the paper like a fragile, irreplaceable item he was entrusting to her.

Castle examined her reaction as she began to read, only to be stopped when she glared and asked for a little privacy. She could see the restraint he employed just to keep from watching her, and it gave her a little hope for how the morning would turn out. Maybe he could control himself when she finally managed to deliver her half-scripted monologue.

It only took her thirty minutes and a few more glares to finish. Her head fell on the back of her chair, eyes sliding shut while she thought on exactly how describe the way she was feeling. "You must have taken a lot of notes," she mumbled, rubbing her temple with the hand not still clinging to his work.

He was clearly unsure if that was a compliment or not. "I did," he said, drawing out the syllables in confusion.

"The mechanics are right," she said through tight lips, head still tilted back.

"But the characters aren't?" He didn't sound surprised, nor overly upset. He sat up in his chair, interested in whatever criticism she had to offer.

Kate did the same. "They're good characters, but they aren't the same. They aren't us."

He slanted his eyes. "I was under the impression they weren't supposed to be us, at least not exactly. If they are, then we really need to talk about some of the scenes I wrote."

That got a chuckle out of her, and some of the palpable tension dissipated, leaving her feeling more free to share her thoughts. "No, you're right." A hint of a smile remained on her face while she fought to explain. "They're witty and fun like usual. There's just something missing."

"The emotional undercurrent," he agreed, nodding his head sagely. "The humor is easy. I've seen it in the past few months. It's the emotion I'm struggling with." There was a question buried in that statement, and it wasn't a subtle one.

This is it, she told herself, arms crossing over her now very upset stomach. The moment she'd skirted around from their beginning over three years ago. This would define them.

"Tell me," he asked in a whisper, and she could tell by his glassy eyes he wasn't going to force her. This would be the last time he asked, but how could she say no? These were his memories as well as hers, and she had no right to keep them from him.

"We've never had this conversation before," she said with a shaky voice, and his kind smile told her how much he appreciated her opening up now. "God, I don't even know where to start, Rick."

"Alexis has told me what I told her. I know part of my side, but ¾ of it is still missing. You're the last piece."

His words hit her with a great force, launching her back in her seat as if she'd been shot. Her eyes flickered to the floor, but they were drawn back to his face time and time again. "There was this…" she struggled to find the right word, eyes widening when it came to her. "Energy. There was an energy between us."

"Yes?" he pushed for more. Unable to sit still now that this was finally happening, he paced behind his desk, eyes never leaving her for more than a few seconds.

She suppressed the urge to pace along with him. "It's like we were magnets, fighting against the pull."

"I can feel that. I could feel it when I first saw you after the coma. It was painful. Why did we fight it?"

Kate clasped her hands together so tightly her knuckles turned white. "Fear, mostly, at least for me. We had all the time in the world, so no time seemed right."

He laughed at that, standing still for a moment to appreciate the irony. "What bullshit," he muttered. "All the things we missed. I guess it doesn't really matter, though. I wouldn't remember any of it."

She sighed and closed her eyes against the pain. "I wish they had happened. I would love to have memories like that to share." She hadn't intended to go this far. It should have taken a different course, one steered by her logical brain and not her emotional heart. And yet, she couldn't stop.

Castle abruptly moved from his safe distance away from her, stopping when there were only inches between them. "Why do you keep your distance, then? There's nothing stopping us."

No sooner were the words out and he'd seen her reaction than he wanted to take them back. She shifted in her seat, rising out of it nearly sideways to avoid touching him.

"Nothing stopping us?" she asked incredulously. "Everything is in our way. There are so many more important things to worry about."

In his heightened state of emotion, everything he'd learned about body language was thrown out the window. He approached her despite the alarms sounding in her eyes. "This worries me more than anything. I can see you retreating more week by week. I'm losing you, and I don't even remember having you in the first place." His eyes glassed over again, betraying the deep, longing sadness he felt.

"You never really did," she spat out, wanting to hurt him and comfort him at the same time. She saw the flash of pain in his eyes, making her regret the words despite their truth.

"No," he agreed solemnly, "but I could. I'm learning everyday how to be myself again, but none of it feels right when you won't so much as touch me. You're all that's missing, Kate."

His arms stretched out, leaving enough room for her body to fit between them and his chest, but she only shook her head at the gesture. "This won't help you. It won't help anyone. You just need to get back to-"

"Normal?" he finished, rolling his eyes but keeping his arms out in an open invitation. "We don't know if that will ever happen. This is all we have. This is our second chance, and you're ruining it."

He was right, and she knew it. The difference was she knew how much was at stake. Castle was in a fragile place emotionally. She didn't want to cause any waves in the stability they were trying to establish for him; it would slow his recovery.

She was stuck as the bad guy, telling him no for his own good and for the good of his family. Kate couldn't be selfish and give them both what they wanted; if it undid his work, if the shift was so big he couldn't rehabilitate to his full potential, she would be solely responsible.

He stared into her eyes and watched the warring emotions, getting fed up and slapping his hands down against his thighs. "Your silence is going to be the death of us. Just talk to me."

Kate looked at him – _really_ looked at him- and took in every wrinkle in his worried face, every inch of him that was counting on her. Tears spilled against her will, and his arms once again reached out to her.

She collapsed into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and breathing him in like she'd been longing to. "There's too much at risk," she whispered into his ear.

He nodded, feeling her hair soft against his cheek. "Then what? You continue to keep yourself at a distance, watching me fight to get better? Watching me want you?"

Kate shook her head, rubbing her tears into his shirt. "I don't want that."

"What do you want?" His hands rubbed circles in her back, relishing what little he could get before she would inevitably slip out of his hold.

"It doesn't matter," she muttered bitterly. "What I want isn't what's best for you, or for Alexis." Her fingers threaded through the hair at the nape of his neck.

Castle's heart tightened in his chest. "You're extraordinary."

She jerked away, but he wouldn't let her get very far. He held her elbows, looking into her surprised, watery eyes. Whatever he saw there, it told him not to ask why that sparked something in her.

"I think I'm going to watch some TV," she lied. As she tried to brush away the wet trails on her cheeks, he gently pulled her hand back from her face.

"No. You're not getting out of this so easily." His hold, though loose enough to give her free will, bound her to the spot.

"Don't," she pleaded, knowing full well how easily she would bend if he used his words. She wanted this too much to keep denying it to herself.

He moved his hands from her elbows to each side of her face. "I promise things will get better. I want you with me when it happens."

Kate shook her head some more, coming off as a petulant child. "You can't guarantee that." She pulled back from his touch, but he was quick to react.

She found herself once again firmly planted against his warm body. He wrapped his arms around her waist, ensuring she wouldn't be able to escape easily.

Removing any non-violent ways to escape made Kate more comfortable with staying there, her rationalization being that it wasn't her choice. But she couldn't rationalize the way she molded herself to him.

"I promise," he uttered again, repeating it each time she protested.

She pulled herself closer to him, as close as she could get and it still felt too far. She didn't want to hear his promises; there was no way he could really know, and she was sick of false hope.

"Kate, listen to me," he pleaded in a firm voice, gently cradling her to his chest. "I don't remember much, but I know what I feel. Maybe I'll never remember, but don't give up on me, because I know without a doubt that I love you."

The dam broke further, her tears soaking running down the skin of his neck while his fell into her hair. "Castle," she murmured breathlessly, torn between her will to run and the god-awful craving to hear it again.

"I love you," he whispered into her ear, and though he didn't remember why, he knew she was worth the battle to figure it out.

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_I'm a little nervous about this one. There are a lot of emotions flying everwhere. Since this is the last chapter, it's your last chance to review. Aren't I subtle? Thank you for sticking with this story until the end. _

_Thanks to Res for helpful medical information, and to Andy, Jade and Eline for their help looking over this and convincing me to post. _

_a/n 2: I feel the need to defend myself after some of the reviews. Yes, this is a very open ending. No, he hasn't recovered all that much. No, you aren't sure what Kate decides. None of this was the point of the story. It was to see them get through an impossible time, to see how they change and move forward. I refuse to give this a fairytale ending. That would be unrealistic._


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